


Would That Be Enough

by her_imperius_condessy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anchors, Derek's POV, Druids, Elemental Magic, Gen, M/M, Monsters of the weeks, warnings at the beginning of each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-08 23:06:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1959567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/her_imperius_condessy/pseuds/her_imperius_condessy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic is getting a rehaul! Just chapter one for now, but I’ll be doing the whole thing. Previously A World Of Demons For The Sake Of An Angel.</p>
<p>Set immediately post season 3. When salvos of an old war are fired again, now with new soldiers, what and who will be the casualties, and will the prices now be too steep for one pack to pay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gorgons and Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first work in the Teen Wolf 'verse. 2016: Not too many changes to start off with. Those’ll come later. 
> 
> Individual warnings: Depression, mild violence and descriptions of injuries, friends trying too hard and not hard enough at the same time, a certain character comes back for a few minutes and it is sad.

Derek didn’t realize Stiles wasn’t around until two weeks after he had had the very disturbing vision about Kate. The dream-within-a-nightmare had startled everyone, but after a week of nothing happening, they had stopped looking into it so much. If Kate did come back, they were mostly ready, but until then the pack had other things to deal with.

Peter and Scott helped Malia learn to control the coyote. As it turned out, Talia had sensed that what was in her niece was wrong, wolves and coyotes not liking each other much. So she’d hidden her away, wiping away all of Peter’s memories of her. Of course, she’d planned on keeping an eye on Malia, but then there was the fire, and no back-up.

Scott talked Derek into convincing Chris Argent to do some weapons training. Kira was still getting used to her abilities, and Lydia was determined to learn some sort of fighting skills, especially after what happened with Allison.

And then Jackson came back to town, after a year in London, showing up only a couple of days after Derek’s dream. He’d been feeling the pull of the Nemeton, and had finally managed to talk his parents into letting him come back to Beacon Hills. Scott and Derek had taken him to the side and filled him in on everything that had happened while he was gone. That took a while.

And it turned out that Jackson’s best friend Danny had actually known about the werewolves and everything the whole time, and so he started tagging along. And it was okay, because everyone loved Danny. Hell, Derek even liked him, and they’d only met a couple of times before. There was an awkward confused look, and ‘isn’t your name Miguel?’, but they got along okay after that.

One day, they were all at Derek’s loft. Why, he wasn’t sure. They all had houses, and yet, somehow, Scott always managed to end up bringing the whole pack to _his_ loft. And just suddenly, out of the blue, Derek realized someone was missing. It took him a few minutes to figure out who it was.

“Scott? Where’s Stiles?”

Everyone stopped and looked at him. Lydia and Danny froze over the book they were looking at. Kira, Malia, Scott, and Jackson all stopped at the same time and fell into a weird little pile, Jackson almost getting stabbed in the leg. Chris and Peter both looked up from what Derek thought was a map or a blueprint. Scott dragged himself out from under Malia, shaking his head.

“He’s with Deaton.”

Everyone sort shook it off and went back to what they were doing. “Why?”

Scott pulled him towards the kitchen. “Uhm, well, Deaton said that packs were supposed to have an Emissary, right? And we don’t have one, so he asked Stiles if he wanted to do that.”

He shrugged. “I think Deaton was being nice, I mean, after everything that…”

Scott sighed. “Well, you know. Stiles didn’t really have anything to do, and I have Alpha stuff, and not doing much besides school and lacrosse was driving him…”

He caught himself before he said ‘ _crazy_ ’.

“I haven’t seen him in two weeks. You’re telling me he’s spent that whole time with Deaton?”

He looked uncomfortable. “Uh. Yeah, I guess.”

“When did you last see him?”

Scott huffed. “I don’t know, earlier in class. And since when do you care that much about Stiles, anyway?”

He went back to what he’d been doing, and Derek let him go.

XxxX

Only Stiles’ jeep was in the driveway, and a couple of lights were on. Concentrating, Derek could tell he was alone in the house; the Sherriff must’ve had to work late. He thought about sneaking up and through the window, like old times, but he thought that maybe scaring an already traumatized guy wasn’t a great idea.

The look on Stiles’ face when he opened the door was disappointingly blank.

“I didn’t think you knew we had a door.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Can I come in?”

Stiles didn’t answer, just turned and walked up the stairs to his room, making Derek follow him.

“So what are you doing here?”

Derek hesitated. Stiles’ room was more of a disaster area than usual. He had books everywhere, books and papers that smelled old and a little bit like animals. They must have come from Deaton. Even weirder were the walls. He’d stripped everything off of them, no papers or strings or even posters. And stranger than that, was that the bed was perfectly made, and didn’t look like it’d been touched in days.

Stiles sat on the floor in a little nest of papers he’d made, taking notes in a thick spiral notebook that was full of post-its and binder clips. Derek felt it was safest to stay in the doorway.

“I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Stiles shrugged. “I’m fine.”

Yeah. Sure, like he believed that. Wait…

Derek straightened up. “You’re lying to me.”

He shrugged. “No I’m not.”

His heart was steady as a _rock_. “Yes you are!”

Stiles shrugged again and moved around a pile of parchments. “If you say so.”

Derek slumped back again. “Scott said that Deaton is teaching you things.”

When Stiles didn’t say anything, he just continued. “Did he teach you how to control your heart rate?”

He got a very small smile. “And you were just the first test subject. Thanks. But really, I _am_ fine.”

“Why aren’t you hanging around my place like the others are, then?”

Ha! There was a definite jump in his heartbeat. Stiles just waved around him. “Look at all this stuff Alan’s making me study. I don’t have _time_ …”

Derek moved and knelt down in front of him. “Liar.”

Stiles sighed. “Fine. I don’t want to be around you guys, okay?”

He stood back up, not really knowing what to say for a minute. “Well…You’re gonna be the Emissary, and you’re still a part of the pack, right? You’ll have to come over sooner or later.”

He gave up all pretense and just ignored Derek. So they stayed in silence for a couple of minutes, Derek just staring at the side of Stiles’ head, waiting for him to break. He finally slumped a little in defeat.

“You wanna go on a walk?”

Derek was so surprised he just nodded, and Stiles grabbed a coat and they went outside. Stiles still wasn’t saying anything, so Derek just followed him. They went down to the end of the street, and then up another, and there was a small park. Derek had driven or walked passed it God only knew how many times, but he’d never paid it much attention. It was just a wide grassy area with some picnic tables and a small playground.

Stiles sat down on one of the tables, and Derek sat next to him. He still wasn’t talking, so they just sat there in silence for about five minutes. Stiles started bouncing his leg up and down, and doing a strange tapping with his fingers against the table.

“It’s just…”

Stiles paused and went silent again, then turned and looked at him. “What did Scott tell you? About me and Alan?”

“That he’d asked you if you wanted to study to become a Druid so you could be our Emissary. That he thought Deaton had asked so that you’d have something to…uh, distract yourself with.”

Stiles huffed. “Scott, if you hadn’t already figured this one out, can be a total idiot. _I_ went to Alan. He’d told me before, that I had the capacity to learn to do what he and Marin can do. So I went and asked to be his apprentice.”

Derek shrugged. “Why is that important?”

He glared at him. “It’s important because Alan did _not_ take me on as some sort of pity case. I want to learn, so that when more and more freaky things start showing up, I can actually fight back. Not just rely on you guys to do everything.”

“You fight all the…”

“Derek, if I knew half of the stuff that I’ve already learned about from them, do you know how many lives could have been saved?”

He didn’t answer that. It was a futile question anyway.

“So that’s one reason I’m staying away. I am not a charity case, and if anyone looks at me like I’m one, I swear to God, I will hurt them.”

Even in the sickly yellow glow of the streetlamp, Derek could see Stiles go pale. He quickly changed the subject.

“Well, what happens when you’re all at school? And you said one reason, what’re the others?”

Stiles kept up tapping his fingers. “School is different. We can all distract ourselves with classes and stuff. But the other reasons are there, too. It’s just easier to ignore them.”

He was quiet for a long minute, staring up at the stars. “Lydia and Jackson.”

Stiles had been quiet for so long, Derek was almost startled. “What about them?”

“I thought we were almost there, you know? Me and Lydia. We’re still close, I mean, we talk a lot and she was my anchor. I know now how important that is. And, the way things were going, I kinda thought I maybe had a good chance.”

He stopped and rubbed at his eyes, but it was out of tiredness. “Then Jackson shows back up. Now, I have zero chance, because, hey, how am I supposed to even start to compete with the ‘Beauty and the Beast’, true love conquers all bullshit?”

Derek laughed under his breath. “If it helps, they snipe back and forth all the time.”

Stiles shrugged. “They always did that.”

He rubbed at his eyes again, just making the circles underneath darker. “Then there’s Malia. It’s gotten tons better, but I still feel awkward around her sometimes, but I think everyone does that.”

Derek was obviously missing something. “What happened with you and Malia?”

Stiles had a look of almost comical terror. “Oh, crap, you don’t know about that. Look, I know she’s your cousin, and _God_ , please don’t tell Peter…”

“Stiles, calm down. We aren’t that close, yet. I’m not going to threaten you, but I will promise not to say anything to Peter.”

He nodded. “Well, we were at Eichen House. You know, together. Which is not something I would normally do. I mean, that is, but not that way, not there. After that, the…thing took over, and went on the rampage of doom.”

Stiles was keeping his gaze firmly on the sky. “It wasn’t fair to Malia. To either of us. So, later, I talked with her about it. That didn’t go so awesome. She’d…she’d seen the hospital tapes, with me and the Oni. Melissa brought them to my dad so they could ‘go missing’, and Malia was there with Scott.”

He was still confused. “So, what does that have to do with anything?”

“She said that it scared her. That she liked me, she still thinks I’m pretty, but…She can’t think about me like that. Which I get, I do.”

“But it still hurts.” Derek nodded.

Stiles was still tapping his fingers. “The others…they look at me, and all I see is pity or fear. I don’t like it, it makes me feel like I’m not…I don’t know, like I’m separate.”

He unconsciously touched Stiles on the shoulder. “You are part of the pack. The only thing making you separate is yourself.”

Derek reached down and grabbed his hand. The one counting. “This isn’t a dream. Look, the _horde_ will come swarming at my place around noon tomorrow, and you should be there. Even if you just bring a bunch of your books and make a nest in the corner and not talk to anyone. Just be there.”

Stiles stared at their hands for a second, then snatched it away, and hopped off the table. “I’m not gonna make any promises, you bossy asshole.”

There was no heat in his voice, so Derek just watched him walk away, and could practically hear the thoughts running around in his head.

xxXX

Derek didn’t really expect to see Stiles the next day. All of the others except Peter showed up, and by five o’ clock or so ‘training’ had devolved into watching some stupid looking movie on Derek’s T.V. and eating all of his popcorn and Oreos.

Seriously, why was he putting up with this? It was so stupid.

About halfway through some weird action sequence, with cars flipping around and over-done explosions, the front door started opening. Some one hit pause and half of them started shifting before they realized who it was.

“Stiles!” Scott jumped right out of his seat and pounced on his best friend, a little too literally, and they both hit the floor.

XXxx

After that, Stiles was over almost as often as the rest of them. He still just kind of stayed by himself, though, and the others were just as reluctant to approach him at first. Probably because he was sending out waves of ‘stay away from me’ all over the place.

Chris tried once, about a week later, to teach Stiles any sort of weaponry. They’d moved into the Preserve that day, for a more than welcome change. Derek would have stayed and enjoyed his apartment actually being quiet for once, but Scott had really begged for him to come along.

Chris had brought out an assortment of guns, and he was working on target practice with Lydia, Kira, and Danny. The rest of them were playing some weird tag-you’re-it game, and Derek sat next to Stiles against a tree. He was trying to ignore everyone else, reading one of Deaton’s books.

And suddenly Kira was standing in front of them. “Hi, Stiles.”

Stiles looked understandably confused; he had driven her and Scott here.

“Uh, hi.”

“You wanna come over? We’re shooting at stuff, it’s fun!”

Stiles just stared at her for a second. Derek could tell he really didn’t want to, but Kira was clearly taking puppy-eyes lessons from Scott. Derek watched as he got up and went over to where Chris had set up a small table, dropping his book in Derek’s lap.

“Nice of you to join us.”

Chris was showing him a hand gun and Derek resisted the temptation to hide behind the tree.

“These are just regular bullets?”

Chris shrugged. “The same kind you’d get at an ammo store. Why?”

Stiles turned the safety off and just barely glanced to the side before pointing the gun and firing once at Jackson, just hitting the side of his leg. The wound couldn’t have gone deep at all; hell, it would probably be totally healed in less than an hour or so.

Jackson’s screaming and cursing was just him being…well, Jackson.

He set the gun back down. “I used to hang around the shooting range with my dad after Mom died. I know how to use a gun.”

Stiles came back over and picked his book back up, sitting with his knees up towards his chest, hiding behind the pages. And Derek wasn’t going to say a word.

Because that… _that_ was the first time he’d seen Chris Argent really smile since Allison had been killed.

XxXx

They all slugged their way back into the loft in various states of injured. It had been a bad idea, Scott’s idea, obviously. There were five of the creatures, so looking at it from a numbers perspective it made sense. Eight against five?

They should have known better.

Whatever they were, it was nothing none of them recognized. They were Kanima-like and sized, but with wings and huge tusks. One of which had gone into Derek’s side, so that probably explained why everything was going all swimmy.

“You’re all stupid.”

Stiles was waiting for them. Scott hadn’t told him they were going after the creatures, saying that he thought Stiles had enough on his plate; the Sherriff had had a close call with a burglary at a store in town. Stiles had been having panic attacks after that, and still wasn’t sleeping for more than four hours a night at maximum.

“No, screw that, _stupid_ doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

He sounded really angry. Derek couldn’t see him, he was having trouble seeing anything. He felt someone lowering him down onto the floor. It had never been more comfortable.

He could hear Scott and Stiles bickering back and forth. “You should have told me!”

“I didn’t want you to worry, and…”

“That would have been better than a panic call from _Peter_ of all people, screaming for help.”

Scott didn’t respond to that. There was an abrupt _cold_ on his side, and he jolted. “Hold still, Grumpy Pants. This’ll help. If you’re bleeding, you have a poison in you…”

There was some panicked mumbling. “Hey, you’re the idiots who thought storming a Gorgon nest was a good idea.”

More mumblings, but the room was coming into better focus. Stiles was on his knees next to him, with a Mason jar full of some kind of orange goop in his hand. He had smeared it on Derek’s side, where the tusk had gored him. The wound was closing, slower than normal, but whatever venom had been cured.

Stiles stood up and went to Peter next, who had a huge scratch running from his ankle up to his hip. “So that’s what they were? Gorgons?”

“Yeah.” He stopped and glared at Scott. “And I would have told you that. Alan and I went and checked them out a couple of hours before you guys left, I guess, and he told me how to make this stuff, and how they could be killed. I tried calling you, but no one was answering. Now I know why.”

He moved on to Malia, who had a bad cut across her head, deep enough the bone was showing. “Then Peter called, and I came over after I finished this.”

He was smearing the stuff on Scott now, glaring him down.

“So…How do we kill them?”

“ _We_ don’t. I dropped the poison that kills them off with Mr. Argent before I came here. Right before you dumb-asses came in, he texted me to let me know they were taken care of.”

Scott pouted after Stiles moved on to Jackson, who still hadn’t forgiven him for the shooting thing, and was trying to squirm away, but his left side was mangled, so he wasn’t going far.

“They’re already dead?”

“ _Yes_. And they would have been already, if you’d told me what you were doing.”

Stiles got right in front of Scott. “I am supposed to be the Emissary to this pack one day. But I don’t know how to _be_ that if you still don’t trust me.”

“What? Dude, I’ve always trusted you, I just didn’t…”

Scott looked defeated. “I guess I didn’t think it through.”

Stiles was still pissed. “You nearly got your pack killed. You need to start thinking, Scotty. And keeping me out of the loop doesn’t scream ‘trust’.”

He slammed the jar on the table and left. By then, Derek was with it enough to scramble after him.

Stiles was stomping down the sidewalk and throwing himself in his Jeep. Derek managed to keep up and climb into the passenger seat. He was just staring at the steering wheel and shook his head. “Derek, go home. I don’t want company, I just…” He shuddered and forcibly calmed his breathing.

“You couldn’t do that before. I think training under Deaton was the best thing to ever happen to you.”

Stiles managed to laugh a little, and started his random tapping on the wheel. “I think that was an insult.”

“And you called me _Grumpy Pants_. I’d say we’re back to a status quo.”

“You’re gonna be slamming me back into stuff before we know it.”

Derek felt some weird, random, vaguely welcomed warmth in the pit of his stomach. There was a comfortable silence.

“So, are we going somewhere?”

Stiles looked confused. “Uh. _You’re_ going home, remember?”

“No, I’m still injured. You’re stuck with me for a while.”

He sighed. “I have to go home. Dad’ll be home soon; his first day back to work since he was hurt. I need to get supper ready, and…”

Stiles shrugged. “I guess you can probably help some. You’re gonna need a shower before he sees you, though. And I know for a fact that you are no longer injured. Drama Queen.”

It was only then Derek remembered he was covered in blood. Stiles started the engine and drove towards his house.

“Scott never did really tell me what happened with your Dad.”

His grip tightened on the wheel. “There was an armed burglary at that gas station near the school. They killed the cashier, but the police got there and took the guy down. But he shot out at random and Dad got nicked on the neck. An inch to the side and his carotid artery would have been shredded.”

Derek nodded. “I’m sorry. And I’m glad he’s okay.”

They went on in silence. “You know,” Stiles suddenly said.

“We stare down monsters all the time. But people… _Humans_ ; sometimes I think that they’re the real demons in this world.”

And, really, there was nothing Derek could say to that. Mostly because it was one hundred and ten per cent true.

As soon as they walked into the Stilinski house, Stiles shoved him into the bathroom with a pair of old sweatpants and the biggest shirt he could find which was still a little tight across the chest. By the time he got out, he could smell chicken baking, wonderfully seasoned, and carrots and green beans cooking.

“Smells awesome.”

Stiles jumped at the stove. “Jesus, you need some kind of beeper on you.”

Derek felt oddly pleased that he could still sneak up on him. “Sorry.”

He rolled his eyes and opened the refrigerator. “No you aren’t. Here, do something useful.”

He dropped a cookie sheet and a can of Pillsbury Crescents in front of him.

It should have felt weird, sitting in Stiles’ kitchen, separating and rolling dough while Stiles rattled on about the herbs he’d used on the chicken and how his dad was going to be annoyed that it wasn’t fried, but tough, he’d deal.

About thirty minutes passed, and everything was almost done, when Derek heard a car pull up. “Your Dad is home.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay, get some plates out.”

When Derek didn’t move, Stiles turned to look at him. “What? I already told you, you can stay. I cooked for, like, six people.”

He just sighed and found the plates and silverware as the Sherriff came in. If he was surprised to see Derek, he didn’t show it. They were halfway through eating and the Sherriff had reassured Stiles that the most exciting thing that had happened was Parrish stabbing himself with a paper clip before he mentioned anything about it.

“So, what big adventure are you not telling me about?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “There wasn’t an adventure. Just Scott being a moron and no one telling me about it.”

The Sherriff turned towards Derek. “What happened?”

“Stiles says they were Gorgons. We didn’t know, Scott just said we should go check them out. And, uh, yeah…It was a mistake. No one got seriously hurt…”

Stiles snorted. “Dude. You had a six inch hole in your side.”

“Son, I’m eating.”

“Sorry, Dad. He’s right, everyone’s fine now. But they’re all at Derek’s house, and he needed someplace quiet.”

The Sherriff looked back at him. “You decided _here_ was a good option? Stiles is unquiet personified.”

Derek shrugged and Stiles pulled out his phone after making a face at his father. “Peter just texted me; he says you left your phone at home. He’s staying there.”

He tapped the screen. “And Jackson is staying, too. And Lydia and Danny and Malia.”

He tapped some more. “Oh, Lydia is going to the Redbox down the street. She’ll go by an ATM and leave you money for groceries. You’re out of soda, potato chips, milk, and Oreos, by the way.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Awesome.”

The Sherriff shook his head. “Well, if you want to stay the night, you’re welcome here. Stiles can drop you back off at home on the way to school in the morning.”

“Oh, Stiles can, can he?” Stiles muttered at his plate.

“Thank you, sir.”

The Sherriff grinned and held his hand out. “I think you can call me John by now.”

XxxX

Stiles’ room looked a little more like how Derek remembered from before. He had print-outs and handwritten notes tacked up on the walls, a few strings connecting different clusters, and there were still books stacked around but it wasn’t as much of a mess. He took a pile of the books and his school bag out of the armchair in the corner.

“Here, sit down. Sorry about how bad it is in here.”

“I’ve seen it worse, don’t worry. What are you doing?”

He had pulled out his desk chair and sat at the computer. “I gotta finish this essay. I was almost through when Alan called about going to look at the nest.”

He turned back around and smiled. “You want something to read? I think you can probably find a book around here somewhere.”

A couple hours later, and Derek was falling asleep in the chair. He’d eaten a good meal, he had fully healed, which always made him a little tired, and the book about plants of the African savannah had gotten more than a little boring.

Stiles nudged at his knee. “Hey. That’s gonna get real uncomfortable. Sleep in the bed, it’s fine.”

Derek shook his head, not wanting to move. “Where’re you going to sleep?”

Aha! He probably thought Derek was mostly out of it and wouldn’t be able to hear the jump in his heartbeat. It just confirmed what he’d been suspecting. That Stiles hadn’t even been sleeping in his bed most nights, probably just passed out on the floor or over his computer keyboard.

Stiles huffed. “Shut up. I’ll be fine, I’ve _been_ fine.”

“You need to sleep.”

“So do you!”

They had a short stare-off. “I’m only getting in the bed if you’re coming with me.”

And Derek was just still with it enough to realize how weird that sounded as soon as it was out of his mouth, but he was with Stiles, and weird shit came out of his mouth all the time. Stiles’ face just went blank for a second, then he jerked his head.

“Fine. I can just climb out after you’re asleep anyway.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Derek managed to lie down mostly on top of Stiles, enough to keep him in place but he could still breathe. He huffed in Derek’s ear.

“I hate you. So much. You have no idea. Later, at some indeterminate point in the future, I will find a way to poison you. Slowly and painfully. I promise. And I have about twenty different ways I can think of right off the top of my head.”

Derek sighed, and felt Stiles make a small shiver under him. His breath must have ticked Stiles’ neck. Whatever. “Just go to sleep, okay?”

“I’m afraid to sleep.”

Derek picked his head up to look at him. Stiles wouldn’t meet his eye. “Hey. I’m here, okay? Nothing is going to hurt you in your sleep, I promise. Especially not yourself. You trust me?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Duh.”

Derek set back on the pillow, and in a half asleep induced craziness, kissed Stiles on the temple. “Good. Then sleep.”

xxXX

A bad, loud, bleeping noise woke Derek up, and he felt Stiles grumbling and shuffling to turn the alarm on his phone off, then he froze.

“Oh my God.”

He was shoving Derek off of him. “Stiles? What’s wrong?”

They were both sitting up in the bed, Stiles staring at his phone. “I slept. It’s six thirty, I slept for seven hours.”

Derek unconsciously rubbed his lower back. “Let me guess, that’s more than you’ve gotten all week total.”

Stiles just nodded, still staring at the phone. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

Suddenly, Stiles turned around and hugged him, holding tight. “Dude, I kind of love you right now!”

He hopped out of the bed and started getting ready for school, not realizing that he’d just set Derek’s head for a spin. But that was Stiles. Never understanding what his words did to people sometimes.

Stiles forced a bowl of cereal on him, and then they left, John still sleeping. Stiles explained that it was his day off, and he needed the extra rest. He stopped outside Derek’s building.

“Looks like all the others are gone. You can have some quiet for…Oh, maybe nine hours.”

Derek smiled. “It’ll be nice.”

There was a short, awkward silence. “Well…Thanks. For everything. Have a good day at school.”

“Yeah. It’ll be great, not trying to stop from sleeping through all my classes. I’ll probably see you this afternoon.”

Derek sighed. “Alright. See you then.”

He went up to his loft. There were snack wrappers and some pizza boxes on the floor, crumbs on the counters and in the sofa, and almost no food, even checking in the special hiding place where he’d stashed some spare Oreos. Malia must have sniffed them out.

But as promised, there was a small stack of twenties on the table.

Derek went to take another shower and get dressed. He had to go grocery shopping.

XxxX

The third day in the school’s spring break coincided with Stiles’ eighteenth birthday. He spent most of the day with his dad, and Derek didn’t bother asking what they did, because he knew it was a private thing. And he knew that that was how Stiles _really_ wanted to do his birthday, because there was a reason he’d tried to keep it quiet. Derek just didn’t know what that reason was.

Scott, on the other hand, decided he needed a party. At Derek’s loft. Even though Lydia was having her own big birthday party in a little over a week at her house.

And even though it was supposed to be a _small_ party, Lydia ended up telling some of her friends. And Jackson told other guys on the lacrosse team. And Danny told his friends, and Danny was apparently friends with every person in the whole damn _town_ , and Malia had invited along her ‘boyfriend’, some dumbass named Greenberg.

And that’s how more than half of Beacon Hills High School ended up at his place, and there was loud music, and too much food, and he was pretty sure that that punch was spiked.

Derek was unhappy. At least it wasn’t the neon rave like the last one. He’d given up on trying to keep any sort of order, and went out to sit on the balcony. He was out there for maybe ten minutes before Stiles joined him.

“You’re supposed to be at your party.”

Stiles huffed. “That is not _my_ party. I don’t like parties.”

The ‘any more’ was left unsaid.

“I didn’t have the chance to say happy birthday earlier.”

Stiles smiled and started tapping his fingers against the concrete he was leaning on. “Thanks.”

They stood in silence for a minute. “My mom used to make a big deal about my birthday.”

Derek didn’t say anything; Stiles never talked about his mother.

“We’d have, you know, kiddie parties, and she’d make these incredible cakes. When she died, I didn’t want to have birthdays anymore. I mean, you know, the parties.”

He scuffed his shoes on the floor. “Dad and me just do stuff on our own for our birthdays. Scott used to go along with it, when it was just the two of us. But now we’ve got all these friends, and I think he likes the attention. A birthday is just a good excuse for a party.”

Derek nodded. “It is your eighteenth. It’s a big one.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah. People say that. But I’m not going to smoke and the elections are months away.”

He had to laugh. “Good points.”

They listened to the ‘music’ for a minute. “You wanna get out of here?”

Stiles scrunched his face up. “Pretend that didn’t sound as corny to you as it did to me. It was a lot cooler in my head.”

But Derek was already nodding. “What do you want to do? Your birthday, your choice.”

Stiles looked at his phone. “All the times I’ve been over here, I’ve never checked out that diner around the corner. The sign says they have curly fries, and it’s still kinda early.”

“You wanna go down the fire escape?”

He smiled and tackle-hugged Derek. He half-heartedly hoped that that wasn’t going to start being a thing. “I’m kinda totally loving you again.”

Derek patted his back. “Yeah whatever, love you, too. Let’s go.”

The diner wasn’t half-bad. And the curly fries were pretty good. So were the chocolate milkshakes and the cheeseburgers. They were there half an hour before Stiles’ phone buzzed on the table.

“Scott says he can’t find me, and asking me if I got kidnapped.”

He huffed. “If I’d been kidnapped, how could I text him back?”

Stiles didn’t text back right away. “Let him stew for a while. Make him think twice about forcing a party on me.”

Derek kicked at him under the table. “I think it just got away from him, cut him some slack. What’s up with you two, anyway?”

Stiles sighed and started tapping on the table. “I don’t know. He’s still my best friend. But…It’s like he’s fading away. They say all that stuff about people growing up and then kind of drifting apart, but I never thought it’d happen with me and Scott.”

The tempo increased, and so did Stiles’ heartbeat. “I miss him, sometimes. Okay, almost all the time.”

On instinct, Derek reached across and grabbed one of Stiles’ hands. “Hey. You should talk to him. He’s doing this stuff, like the party, because he thinks it’ll get you more involved. _You’re_ the one drifting away from his point of view.”

He let go of his hand, just for the tapping to start up. “Scott worries about you. We all do. He means well, I promise. Just talk to him.”

Stiles just nodded and texted Scott back. “He knows where we are. I’ll call him tomorrow.”

“Good.”

“And don’t worry about me.”

Derek looked up, and Stiles was kind of blushing. “I’m getting better. So stop worrying.”

“You’re getting better.”

“Yeah that’s what I just said.”

He smiled. “Not ‘I’m fine’.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Finish those curly fries or I’m gonna steal them.”

XxxX

After Stiles and Scott had their, using Stiles’ words, ‘big bromance number’, things changed. Stiles was over even more often, and didn’t just huddle in the corner for most of the time. He brought video games over, and they turned into midnight-long tournaments that involved a lot of cursing and screaming and Malia broke Scott’s arm with one of the controllers at one point.

He started sharing more and more of what Deaton and occasionally Ms. Morrell were teaching him, telling them about tests that he had to go through. ‘Trials’, he called them, that as he kept passing, would lead him closer and closer to a final trial that would be his rite of passage from being an apprentice to a full Druid. He would always be learning, of course, the same as any of them did.

And he’d finally been able to tap into what he called ‘the elemental magic’. The Druids’ source of power came from the earth, so they could manipulate some things if they wanted to. Earth, fire, water, air, and in some cases animal spirits could all be harnessed and manipulated, if the Druid in question had the mental strength to do so. Everyone had different levels of control, Stiles had explained. Jennifer had had a fierce amount of control, Deaton was really good on animals but didn’t do much with the others, and Marin concentrated most on air.

Stiles couldn’t do much more than stare at a candle for ten minutes before it caught on fire for a second, but it was still pretty cool. He was determined that he’d get better at it, it just took practice.

One cloudy Saturday, they were out in the woods and Derek realized that Stiles had wandered off. He did that a lot, but Derek started to get worried when he noticed the area of the Preserve where they were.

He jogged for a minute and came to the clearing where the Nemeton was. Stiles was sitting on the middle of the stump, his eyes closed and looking honest to God serene.

It was kinda creepy.

“Hey Derek.” Stiles didn’t even open his eyes.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

Stiles sighed, and Derek could swear he felt the forest around him kind of sigh, too. “I can feel it all, the Preserve, the town…everything. The Nemeton amps it all up. This is so awesome. It must be what drugs are like, except way cooler.”

He had never seen Stiles so at peace, or so still. Even in his sleep he twitched around. He frowned slightly. “I know. I thought I’d be stuck with the Adderall and my ADHD for the rest of my life, but this foresty meditation stuff has helped _so_ much.”

Derek shook his head. Had Stiles just heard what he was thinking?

“Well, kinda. I think it’s the tree. She says she knows you.”

“Get out of my head!”

Stiles finally opened his eyes and smiled. “Sorry.”

He nodded towards Derek. “The others are on their way.”

It was only a second before Derek could hear and smell them, then a minute before they came in the clearing. Scott huffed.

“Damn, I hate that thing.”

Stiles had closed his eyes again. “She doesn’t like you, either.”

“She?”

“The Nemeton. She recognizes you as the Alpha over her territory, but she thinks you’re a rude little pup. Her words. Okay, maybe our words.”

Lydia started towards him. “Uhm. Are you talking to the tree? Are you going to start turning into one of those guys who wears hemp and plays with hacky sacks?”

“It’s more like the tree is talking to me, or through me. And no to the hemp. Hacky sacks are cool, though. I probably have one somewhere in my room. Need to find it.”

He scrunched his nose up. “Jackson, that wasn’t nice.”

“What? I didn’t…”

Kira was looking at something on the other side of the clearing. “Stiles? What are these? It looks familiar.”

Stiles turned so he was facing her. “Yeah. Those are lilies. I saw them earlier.”

There was a light, dismissive tone to his voice that struck Derek wrong, even if no one else noticed. His heartbeat never wavered. Kira nodded and smiled, but Derek saw her take a picture of one of the flowers on her phone. She had heard something off, too, then.

Later, after he’d gotten back home, and it was quiet and he was channel surfing, Kira texted him.

‘ _We need to talk_ ’

xxXX

Kira bounced into his apartment, full of nervous energy. She kind of reminded him of Stiles, a little bit. Maybe that was one of the reasons why Scott liked her so much.

“We both know Stiles was hiding something back there, right?”

Derek had sat on his sofa, but Kira was pacing. “Yeah.”

“I showed my mom that picture. It’s called a goldband lily, or a Japanese mountain lily. She said that it’s weird that they were growing in the forest like that, and that they definitely weren’t there the last time she went to that tree…What’s it called?”

“The Nemeton.”

“Yeah. That. So, why was he being shifty? You know, over some flowers? Something is up.”

Kira hesitated. “Right?”

“I think something is definitely up.”

Kira nodded and paced some more.

“Well…What are we going to do?”

Derek kind of liked Kira.

“You wanna help me break into a house?”

xxXX

“Derek, I have _told_ you, the door is there for a specific…Oh. Hey, Kira.”

Derek climbed into Stiles’ room behind her. He was sitting on his bed, packing some papers, a notebook, and some small jars into a leather satchel bag that Derek had seen him with a few times.

“What are you guys doing here?”

Kira held up her phone. “Japanese mountain lily.”

Stiles sighed, obviously defeated. “Yeah. What about them?”

Derek sat down on the desk chair. “You were acting shifty, and Kira and I think you know something.”

He looked between them. “Does Scott know about this? Any of it?”

Kira shook her head. “No. Should I call him?”

Stiles stood up. “No. He can’t know about this, okay? I’m not telling either of you anything until you both swear you won’t mention any of this to Scott.”

Kira raised her hand. “Scout’s honor, I promise.”

Derek nodded. “Promise.”

Stiles looked back out his window, putting the strap of the bag over his shoulder. “How did you guys get here?”

Derek reached in his pocket. “I parked around the corner. Are we using my car?”

He nodded. “If it’s okay. Come on, we’ll go out the door. Like _civilized_ people.”

The Sherriff was sitting in the living room. Once again, if he was surprised to see two extra people coming down the stairs, he didn’t show it.

“Kira. Derek. Nice to see you.”

He looked at his son. “Something I need to know about?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, but leaned down and gave his father a quick hug. “Not much. There’s one thing we have to take care of, but it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”

The Sherriff looked between the three of them again. “Keep safe, then. And remember, back by midnight.”

Stiles nodded and they left. When they were all in Derek’s car, he turned to Stiles. “Okay. Where are we going?”

“That way.”

Stiles kept being purposively vague as they drove for a while, giving directions but not telling them much until they’d been going for almost fifteen minutes.

“So, I’ve been reading about this, uhm, phenomenon. When someone…turn left. When they die a supernatural death, especially if there was, you know, unfinished business, they can leave behind an echo.”

Kira leaned forward. “Like a ghost?”

Stiles nodded. “Left again, up here. Yeah, kind of like a ghost. They’re stuck where they were when they died. And after they’re stuck for a while, they can manipulate stuff. Moving objects, cold spots, ghosty things. Right, up there.”

Stiles pulled something out of the satchel. It was one of the lilies in a plastic bag. “And sometimes, if an echo wants to attract attention to talk with somebody, then they can leave clues.”

Kira took the bag. “Like a Japanese mountain lily growing around the Nemeton?”

Stiles nodded. “Yes. That was a very purposeful and obvious clue. Next left and we’re there.”

Derek parked the car and they got out, facing a tall iron double-gate. He could feel nervousness and fear radiating off of Stiles and Kira.

“Oak Creek?” She asked in a whisper, and Stiles nodded.

“Yeah. Come on.”

He pushed the gates open, and they walked thorough and across an overgrown courtyard. “Oh, wow.”

There was a spot near the far wall where a large patch of the lilies were growing, white and orange, almost glowing in the moonlight. Derek could feel heavy grief now. Kira pointed. “Isn’t that where…?”

She didn’t finish the question, but Stiles nodded. “You two stay here. And remember…Don’t tell Scott.”

Derek leaned closer to Kira. “I don’t understand. Who’s here?”

Kira just fiddled with the plastic bag she still held. “She loved lilies. Scott told me that her mom wore this perfume…”

Stiles stopped. “Allison?”

The air in front of him shimmered, then a dark blue shadow started taking form, and after a few seconds it was clearly Allison, just all swirly and dark. She smiled. “Stiles? Is that you?”

He nodded, and Derek could feel the nerves and guilt and sadness coming off of him enough to make Derek feel sick at his stomach. “Yeah. It’s me. I’m here. Japanese lilies? Smart.”

Allison laughed. “I knew one of you would figure it out.”

She tilted her head to the side. “You seem different.”

Stiles half choked out a short laugh. “Well. It’s been a while.”

He stopped smiling. “You’re the exact same.”

Allison looked down and tried to kick at a rock, but the shadow outline of her shoe just went right through it. “There are things I need to know.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Is there anyone else with you, or…”

He hesitated, then motioned to Kira and Derek. “There’s just the three of us.”

She looked around. “Scott’s not here?”

“He doesn’t know. I thought it might be…”

Allison nodded quickly. “No, no, you’re right. It would mess with him.”

She smiled at Kira. “Is he okay?”

Kira looked quickly at Stiles and he nodded. “He’s…He’s fine. I mean, he misses you. We all do.”

Allison nodded. “And Isaac?”

Stiles hesitated again. “He left. He’s traveling, I think. He’s called Scott a few times, but we haven’t seen him in a while. Scott keeps him in the loop, though.”

Allison slumped a little. “Oh. Okay.”

She brightened back up. “And my dad?”

Derek answered this time. “He’s dealing. He still does some hunting, and he’s been teaching some of us how to fight, and gives us weapons when we need them. I think it keeps his mind busy.”

She smiled. “Good. Thank you for looking out for him. And the code is being followed?”

Stiles managed another smile. “By everyone. ‘We protect those who cannot protect themselves’.”

Allison looked around, eyes getting a little teary. “So, it worked?”

Stiles nodded. “Your dad got the message, about the silver. They killed the Oni, and Scott and Kira took care of the Nogitsune.”

She looked him over. “So…You’re okay?”

He made himself smile again. “I’m fine.”

Allison looked around. “What happens now?”

He shrugged. “The books only got me this far. I don’t know what happens next. I guess…Is there a bright light to go into?”

Allison laughed and shook her head. “No. I can just see you guys. No light. Should I just… _let it go_?” She asked in a sing-song voice, and Derek thought it was from a movie song. He didn’t know which one.

Kira broke out into little hiccupping sobs, and he put his hand on her back. Stiles nodded sadly. “You gotta go on somehow.”

Dark blue tears stained Allison’s face. “I’m scared, Stiles. I wish I didn’t have to go.”

Derek could swear he felt Stiles’ heart break, and Kira cried harder.

“It’s okay to be scared, I think. But it’s supposed to be a better place.”

Allison rolled her eyes, sarcastic. “I’ve heard that one before, thank you.”

“No, really. I hear the streets are gold and the skies are made of diamonds.”

Stiles was still forcing himself to smile. “And your mom will be there. You’ll tell her everything that you’ve done and she is going to be _so_ damn proud of you.”

Allison looked up, hopeful. “You really think so?”

He nodded. “I know so.”

She wiped at her face and stood straighter. “Okay then. I really want to give you a hug right now. Kira, will you…”

Kira moved from where she’d been next to Derek and wrapped her arms tightly around Stiles from behind, knocking him forward a little and he made a soft ‘oomph’ noise.

Allison gave them a bright smile. “I guess I’ll be seeing you guys again soon. But not _too_ soon, okay?”

The dark blue shadow faded back into a light glimmer, then it faded away. And the only thing left behind was the over powering scent of lilies.

And Allison was gone again.


	2. Ravens and Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> Individual warnings for this chapter: Descriptions of violence/injuries, bad monster, language, feelings, magic, and even more feelings.

The drive from Oak Creek to Kira’s house was uncomfortable. Kira cried off and on, and her face was red and splotchy when she got out. She came over to the passenger side, and Stiles rolled the window down.

Kira leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “You were pretty wonderful tonight. Thank you.”

She bolted off for her house, and Stiles rolled his window back up as Derek pulled back out into the street. Glancing over at him, and seeing his face lit up by the streetlights, Derek made up his mind.

“Give me your phone.”

It really said something that Stiles just handed it over. At a stop sign, Derek found the right contact and called.

“Stiles?”

“Hello, Sherriff. This is Derek.”

There was a short silence. “Is Stiles okay?”

He’d already thought up a story. “He’s fine. Scott and Jackson are here at my place, and they’re playing some game. He wanted me to call and ask if it would be okay if he stayed the night.”

There was a crackle, the sound of a sigh. “Let me guess…Halo?”

Derek shrugged. “I think that’s it. I just know that they’ll be up late getting pizza sauce on my couch again.”

He must have managed to sound long suffering, because the Sherriff laughed. “Well, tell him it’s fine with me. And, just between the two of us, if he’s gone then I can have the real eggs for breakfast.”

Derek nodded. “Okay, thank you, sir.”

Another crackle. “It’s _John_ , son.”

“Thank you, John.”

There was a buzz as he hung up, and Derek dropped the phone into Stiles’ lap, who didn’t say anything. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the car ride, or when they parked, or the walk up to the loft. He just sat down on the edge of the couch, dropping his bag next to his feet.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Derek sat next to him, not leaving much space between them. “If anyone looked at you for more than a second then they’d think something terrible had happened. And I didn’t think you’d want to explain what happened tonight to your dad.”

Stiles sniffed and shook his head. “No. That would have sucked. Thanks.”

Derek just nodded. Stiles was just staring at the floor. He didn’t know what to do.

He reached and touched Stiles on the knee. “Tell me what you need.”

And that was all it took. Stiles just broke down, crying, full body wrecking sobs that were painful to watch and even harder to hear. Derek pulled him so he was pressed to his chest, and Stiles just curled into him, grabbing him around his waist. The only thing Derek could do was hold him, one arm over his shoulders keeping Stiles pressed tighter to his chest, and the other hand rubbing slow circles on his lower back.

Stiles cried for a good fifteen minutes, and then another five minutes of quiet sniffles before he started to pull away. Derek dropped his arms and leaned back. Stiles wiped at his face with the end of his hoodie’s sleeves.

“Sorry about your shirt, man.”

It took Derek a second to understand. He looked down at the large wet spot that was getting cold against his skin now. He got up and went upstairs and changed. “There. All fixed.”

Stiles looked better. His face was red and a little swollen, but he didn’t look as heavy as he had before. He even smiled. It was small, but it was a real smile, not forced or broken. Derek sat back next to him, putting a little more space between them this time.

“Thank you. Again. I know you don’t like that we’re at your place so much, and…”

Derek cut him off. “No, hey. It’s different if it’s you.”

He realized how that sounded, and judging from the kick up in Stiles’ heartbeat, he did, too.

“I mean, you aren’t just hogging up space. And I actually invited you here, so it’s different.”

Stiles nodded then looked around. “Did you eat already?”

Derek shook his head. He’d been thinking about dinner when Kira had popped in.

“I haven’t either. I’ve been dreaming about that diner’s curly fries for a week now. You wanna go out?”

He searched Stiles’ face. There was nothing there to suggest any other motive other than friendly company while they ate, and then probably passing out on Derek’s couch.

He must have waited too long, because Stiles shook his head. “Hey, no big deal. I can go, or…”

It was pure instinct. That was what Derek tried to tell himself over and over later. Stiles had mentioned leaving again, and he was doing that thing where he was _talking_ , and so Derek did the first thing he thought of to make him stop.

He leaned in across the space between them, balancing his weight on the cushion and Stiles’ knee and Derek kissed him. As far as kisses went, it wasn’t the _best_. Stiles was understandably surprised, and didn’t return any pressure, and his lips were chapped and dry from the crying jag. He tasted a little too much like salt and his skin was hotter than it would normally be.

Okay. The kiss sucked. That may have been the worst kiss _ever_. Derek pulled away and there was a long, very _very_ awkward silence. True to form, Stiles broke it.

“Uhm. What the _fuck_ was that?”

A weird, hysterical giggle burst out of Derek before he could stop it. “God, I don’t even know. I’m so sorry.”

Stiles was absently licking his bottom lip, where Derek had briefly touched it with his tongue. “No, don’t be…”

He started the tapping immediately after that.

“Can we…Just kind of pretend I didn’t do that? I really am sorry. There, uhm. Did you…Did you even get anything from that?”

Stiles stopped tapping. “No. Not really. No offence.”

They sat in another long, but not totally uncomfortable silence.

“So. Curly fries?”

xXxX

A week after that, and Derek was enjoying the peaceful quiet of people not barging in on his private space and silence. He’d liberated an interesting looking book on the history of the Beacon Hills area from Stiles’ room and was relaxing on the couch.

Then, out of nowhere, his ears picked up a distant scream that he would have recognized anywhere. It was Lydia, and it came from the direction of the school. He grabbed his phone and keys, and was halfway out the door before the phone beeped in his hand.

It was a text from Stiles.

‘ _Don’t panic. Shop teacher tripped and landed on the buzz saw while it was running. Lydia heard the buzzing and did her thing. NBD._ ’

He had to work out what ‘NBD’ meant, but he went back inside. ‘ _Be careful anyway_.’

Stiles didn’t text back.

Later that day, Lydia was still shook up, and Derek managed to find some tea bags that might have been there when he moved in and a lemon that was just on the right side between ripe and black fuzzy. She made a delicate grossed out face, but thanked him and drank it anyway.

Kira and Malia were in uncharacteristically bitchy moods and Jackson was in an uncharacteristically unbitchy mood. The girls were all sitting together and looking murderous, and Jackson was humming. _Humming_ , and completely ignoring everyone else, including Danny.

Stiles explained off to the side in the kitchen area. “There’s a foreign exchange student at the school. I think from Sweden or something. She set Kira and Malia off though, I don’t know why. Scott had to drag Malia into the locker room and use his Mom Voice to keep her from shifting. And I don’t know what’s with Jackson. I mean, the girl is hot…”

Derek frowned; he didn’t like hearing that. “…but he’s acting like, I don’t know. Love spelled, or something. Scott’s the same way, he’s just not here yet.”

Peter popped up behind him. “Yes, where is Scott?”

Stiles checked his phone. “I don’t know. He said he wanted to…oh, _shit_.”

Scott came in, leading a very pretty girl in behind him. She was tall, and had long curly blonde hair and her eyes were dark enough they looked black. Something about her made the hair on the back of Derek’s neck stand up.

Derek looked to Peter, to see his reaction. He was practically drooling, staring at the girl like she was some kind of Goddess. The only ones unaffected were the girls, who all looked pissed, Stiles, Danny, and himself.

Scott beamed around, obviously not sensing anything wrong. “Guys, this is Lovisa. I wanted to show her the view from the roof.”

He turned back to the girl. “It’s really cool. This is Derek’s place, but he lets us hang out here. He’s one of the coolest adults I know. Come on, there’s a balcony, and you can see the whole town…”

Jackson ran up. “Yeah, let’s go. The sun will be going down soon. Sure it’s not the kind of view I had when I was in London, but it’ll do, I suppose…”

Peter… _Peter_ , who desperately needed to remember that he had a daughter this girl’s age, walked up to them, too. “Ignore these rude boys. The gentleman will escort the lady.”

She took his arm, and they swarmed out, Scott and Jackson shoving each other around to get closer to her. Derek could see smoke practically coming out of all three girls’ ears. Stiles looked at him. “See? Now tell me if something doesn’t smell funky here?”

Malia flipped around and glared. “She’s evil. I can tell. Evil. _Evil_!”

Stiles rubbed his head. “I heard the evil speech already on the drive here, thank you, Malia.”

Kira had turned, too. “Isn’t there some kind of evil bitch test we can do? Like, stabbing her? I can stab stuff, I’m good at that.”

Malia nodded and they high fived each other before looking back at Stiles, looking for permission to kill and or maim. Stiles just looked like he was about to tear his hair out.

Lydia turned around, setting her tea down. “Derek, do you have music playing?”

He shook his head. “No? Do you hear any? Like…I don’t know…bells?”

Derek closed his eyes and tried to focus his hearing. “I don’t hear any music. Jackson is still humming, but I wouldn’t count that.”

She sighed. “Not again.”

Malia and Kira both turned back to her. “Is it happening now?”

Lydia shuddered but shook her head. “No. It’s already stopped. It’ll be awhile, I think.”

Danny was pacing, and kept looking towards the balcony. “Do you guys think they’re safe out there? I mean, if she is evil…”

Stiles snapped his fingers. “Hey, I know…Let’s check her out. Where is she from, and where’s she staying? Maybe it’ll come up not legit, and we’ll know she’s posing or up to something.”

That led to half an hour of Stiles, Lydia, and Danny in front of a laptop. Apparently, Lovisa Magnusson did have a temporary student visa, and was in a foreign exchange program that had her listed in its roster. She was enrolled at Beacon Hills, and her schedule showed her in Mr. Kane’s shop class when the accident had happened.

Her sponsors were Mr. and Mrs. Danskin, who lived around the corner from Jackson’s house, and Danny had met them before. They were cute and old and completely _not_ evil.

Kira made sure to remind them that it was always the cute old people who turned out to be raging psychopaths on the television shows she watched.

Malia was pacing and looking angry. “I’m gonna rip her throat out.”

Absolutely Peter’s flesh and blood. No doubting it anymore.

Stiles waved his hands. “No killing until we actually see her being evil. We have _talked_ about this!”

“She has my father _and_ my Alpha…”

Kira butted in. “And my boyfriend!”

“…in her thrall. _How_ is she not evil?”

Stiles slumped and looked like he was tempted to just let Malia at the girl, when Derek heard footsteps out in the hallway. They were familiar, but he still hushed everyone, and they all tensed, ready to go if needed.

Whoever it was smelled familiar. They stopped just outside. “Uh. I’d try to come in, but I’m getting some serious ambush vibes, and that’s totally not the welcome home I expected.”

The voice was muffled, but definitely Isaac. Of the four Derek had turned, two of them were back, and it gave him an unfamiliar warmth in his chest to have them here, as part of the pack. Even though they weren’t his betas anymore, they still felt like _his_.

Kira had jumped up and pulled him in, and all the others were giving him hugs and back slaps and kisses. Isaac was blushing and halfheartedly pushing them away. He looked different, but happy.

Derek felt himself drawn to the group and reached to shake his hand, but Isaac all but tackle hugged him, the way Stiles sometimes did.

“You guys really are surprised to see me. Scott didn’t say…”

Kira growled under her breath, and Isaac held up his hands. “Whoa. I came in time for monster week, huh? He’s been keeping me in on what’s been happening, but didn’t mention anything. And he said he was going to tell you guys I’d be back today.”

Stiles shrugged. “Maybe. Scott seems to be under the influence of some kind of…Possibly supernatural Swedish exchange student.”

“Okay? So I came back in time for the opening of a really crappy porno.”

Derek couldn’t help the snort that came out and Lydia slapped Isaac’s arm. “ _No_.”

The others finally started to come back in from the balcony. Lovisa still had a sort of blank creepy look, and Peter, Scott, and Jackson all still looked disturbingly besotted. It just kept getting creepier the longer it went on. Derek’s hair still stood up on the back of his neck, and he could sense Isaac bristling the same way. Malia and Kira both growled, and Lydia glared as hard as she could.

Lovisa just blinked at them all.

Scott ran up to Isaac and hugged him. “Dude! I totally forgot about you. I need to introduce you. This…”

Isaac growled low in his throat. “What is _that_?”

Scott, Jackson, and Peter all sighed in tandem. “An angel.”

“The Goddess Aphrodite incarnate.”

“My _soul mate_.”

Stiles shuffled uncomfortably next to him. “Jesus. Get me a bucket to puke in to.”

Derek spoke up. “Okay, my loft, my rules. Everyone out. Out now.”

He touched Stiles just above the elbow so he’d know to stay. There was a fight all the way down the hallway about who would drive Lovisa home. The girls slunk behind them glowering like they were trying to set them on fire. Danny and Isaac just followed and looked very uncomfortable.

Stiles slammed the door as they all left, leaving him and Derek alone. Stiles shook his head. “What am I supposed to do?”

Derek sat down at his table and picked at a flaking piece of the wood. “There’s nothing to go on. I don’t think there’s anything to do yet.”

Stiles was pacing angrily and chewing on a pen he’d been using to make notes while Danny worked on the computer. It was mildly distracting. “Have you talked to Deaton?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, of course I did. He said that he was going to treat this like one of his trials. A random…A _pop quiz_! This is on me, I _am_ Deaton until we figure out what’s happening. I mean, he’ll step in if there’s a true world-ending emergency. But otherwise…”

Derek watched him pace. “Do you want to sit?”

“Hmm. No. I’m thinking better if I’m moving.”

Derek just leaned back. “Okay. What are you thinking?”

He shrugged, and just kept going. “I don’t know where to start!”

“Well, tell me what you know.”

That seemed to work. Stiles started to list things that had happened over the day, which had started off totally normal. But there were so many dead ends that Stiles ended up going home an hour later, grouchy after getting a call from Scott talking about how awesome Lovisa was.

xxXX

Two days later, and no one had shown up at his place. Derek knew he should feel grateful for the wonderful peace he was getting. It was like a vacation. A vacation of solitude. The only thing he missed was Stiles. And maybe that should have told him something, but Derek was firmly ignoring that part of his brain.

On day three, a Sunday, early in the morning, Derek was woken up at a God awful hour of the morning. It was six forty five, for the love of _Christ_. But he was woken up by a loud scream.

Lydia.

He followed the echoes and her scent to, surprisingly, the cemetery next to the Catholic church. The police and an ambulance were already there, the Sherriff looking put out and grumpy, and Stiles was with Lydia, and Isaac was with them, too. Stiles had his arm around Lydia, and she was giving a statement to John, who would know how to put things so whatever details they had didn’t scream ‘supernatural events’.

The stench of blood on the air was overwhelming.

He came to stand next to his friends. “What happened?”

Stiles looked around for eavesdroppers, and nodded. Lydia shook slightly, and Derek realized that under the blanket a medic had given her she was still in her night clothes.

“I heard…the music. I was right about the bells, it was a clue. I think I must have sleep-walked here. I found him…His name was Father Thomas. That stone cross.”

Derek looked around the barricade, and saw the cross. It was stained with blood.

“He was tied by his wrists and feet, and he was…”

Her face scrunched up and she turned her head against Stiles’ chest. Isaac looked at them.

“It was pretty gruesome. What did you call it?”

“The Blood Eagle. It’s an ancient Nordic execution ritual…”

John came up to them. “Son, I don’t know how I feel about you knowing so much about execution rituals.”

Stiles tried, and failed, to look apologetic. The Sherriff looked around. “I think you kids should go. You probably have… _stuff_ to do.”

Stiles looked at Derek and nodded. “Yeah, we definitely do. I’ll drop Lydia off at her house, and I guess we can all meet up at your place later.”

“Not Scott, Peter, or Jackson,” Derek warned. “I don’t want to put up with their…”

He almost said ‘bullshit’, but remembered that Stiles’ dad was there. “Nonsense.”

Isaac smiled like he knew what Derek was thinking. “I won’t say a word to Scott, I promise.”

They separated, but the Sherriff grabbed Derek by the elbow. “What is going on?”

Derek hated to say it. “We don’t know yet. But we’ll figure it out.”

John sighed. “Just…Keep them all safe.”

He looked to where Stiles was offering to help Lydia into his Jeep and she was already calmed enough to bitch at him about how she was totally capable to get in his craptastic death trap of a vehicle, and Isaac behind them trying not to laugh and getting on his bike, previously Aiden’s, the one Ethan had given him before they’d both left town.

“I’d die to keep them all safe.”

And it was the complete truth.

XxxX

Stiles showed up dragging three duffle bags of books behind them, and Isaac carrying five more in one hand, and two huge bags full of Doritos, Funions, Lucky Charms, Oreos, two different kinds of energy drinks, and four two-liters of Code Red Mountain Dew in the other.

“Brain food,” he explained.

Derek, Stiles, Isaac, Danny, Kira, Malia, and Lydia then started on an epic eight hour research mission, all of them with notebooks to write down anything they found that might be useful.

Stiles put all their findings together on a big poster board, already chewing at the end of a Sharpie.

“Okay. So…It looks like we have…absolute _shit_!”

He scrubbed at his head and yanked at his hair. “Oh my God, what is this? There is _nothing_ useful here! What are we even doing?”

Derek smelled the anxiety and panic rolling off of him. Isaac leaned down and picked him up easily. “Stiles, calm down, okay…Come here. Look at it this way. Gotta see the whole board, remember?”

They all stared at it on the floor for about five minutes.

“AHAHAHAH!”

Stiles’ sudden exclamation made them all jump. He got on the floor and started drawing circles and long lines connecting them with seemingly random numbers with his red pen. “Okay, there’s maybe something.”

He stood back up.

Danny was the first to say it. “I still don’t know what the hell’s going on here.”

Stiles jumped into action. “Okay look. Lovisa is at the center of this, right?”

Malia nodded. “Evil bitch.”

He sighed. “Yes. She showed up. And she’s Swedish, right. Now, the man who was killed, he was killed by a Nordic execution ritual. I think she had something to do with it.”

“Can I kill her?”

“Malia, shut up!”

She pouted. Stiles went on. “And here,” he pointed at a big circle, “…we have the valravn. A Scandinavian legend, a raven who ate from the body of a king and gained supernatural powers. It can shift between a raven and human.”

He looked at Malia and Kira. “Ravens are usually seen as tricksters, like foxes and coyotes are. It’s why she set the two of you off. Valravns live to cause strife and chaos. For example, finding a pack and manipulating it into splitting apart. It’s why she went through the trouble of changing the records so when we looked she checked out.”

He sighed. “She’ll be planning on us trying to rip each other into little pieces soon. And she’s playing with all of us. They like deadly ironies, like making a shop teacher fall on a saw. We all have to be careful from now on.”

Kira looked at the board. “How do we kill it?”

Stiles looked embarrassed. “Yeah, about that. The lore says it can only be ‘struck down by the hand of God’.”

Malia shrugged. “Should we start praying?”

Lydia shot her a look. “Didn’t do that priest any good.”

Danny looked to Stiles. “Okay, so what do we do now? Until we find…God, or whatever.”

Stiles started flailing again. “I _don’t know_. I’m the plan guy, not the leader guy. Scott is the leader guy.”

Isaac stepped in. “Well, we should vote for another leader guy. Someone to be our temporary Alpha for a while.”

Malia raised her hand. “I vote for Derek!”

Derek froze. “You weren’t here, you didn’t see how bad I fucked that up. Isaac, I don’t know what you’re doing even suggesting…”

Isaac had raised his hand. “Seconded.”

And everyone else put their hands up, then Stiles slapped his hand against the table. “Motion passed.”

They all looked at him. “Uhm…Okay, well. We know who the…”

“Valravrn,” Lydia reminded him.

“Yes, that, is. So, someone should keep an eye on Lovisa. We haven’t actually seen her do anything, yet. The real valravrn could be using her as a diversion, since it’s a trickster.”

They all nodded, and Derek started to feel like he was maybe back in control. “We should go in pairs, or in threes, since it’s so unpredictable. And just watch, don’t approach her,” he pointedly looked at Malia, who huffed and looked annoyed.

Lydia spoke up next. “But we don’t know where she is.”

“Has anyone checked in on the others?”

Danny, Isaac, and Malia all pulled their phones out to get in touch with the missing pack members.

Danny found her first. “She’s with Jackson at his house.”

Lydia looked like she could murder someone.

“Danny, you take Kira. You’ll be first watch. Text me when she leaves.”

XXxx

The next few days tried very, _very_ heavily on Derek’s patience. The next day he called Chris in on it, and they were given hand radios so that everyone watching Lovisa could report in to him.

At school, it was easy, but then the weekend came, and it was harder. They took watches in alternating pairs or threes, so the valravrn wouldn’t get suspicious. That day, Peter was escorting her through the shops in the middle of town. Malia and Isaac were trailing as best they could.

Derek was sitting at his kitchen table with the radio while Stiles was hunting through five hundred books, internet sites, and occasionally hitting himself over the head with stuff to figure out what ‘Hand of God’ referred to.

There was abruptly a distant scream. Derek stiffened up, and Stiles sensed it immediately.

“Derek? What happened?”

His cell phone and the radio went off at the same time, and Derek grabbed at it.

“Derek? You there?”

“What happened? I heard Lydia.”

It sounded like Isaac was running, the radio crackling. “We were watching her, and she just vanished! I mean, she just turned into a bird and flew off. We tried to follow, but…Dude, do you realize how many birds there actually are?”

Stiles came up. “Outside the hospital. Lydia’s there, tell them to go.”

Derek repeated the message and followed Stiles out to his Jeep. “Lydia heard wings flapping, then she screamed. An ophthalmologist was leaving the hospital, and she was attacked by a huge flock of birds. They pecked her eyes out, then tore her to pieces. It’s the same M.O, an ironic death.”

Isaac and Malia were with Lydia when they got there. Blood was in the air, heavy enough to choke him. Danny and Kira weren’t far behind.

Lydia looked at Derek. “What do we do now?”

He had no idea. “I guess…Check if she’s with any of the others?”

But before any of them could even pull their phones out, there was a long howl, coming from the Preserve.

“That’s Scott,” Isaac breathed. “She’s gonna make the three of them fight each other!”

Derek tried to think quickly. “Okay. Malia, you come with me and Isaac. We’ll find them.”

He turned to Danny. “You can follow the GPS on our phones?”

He nodded. “No problem.”

“You, Kira, and Lydia get to Chris. Tell him you need flash grenades, throwing knives, and crossbows.”

They nodded and ran to the cars. Derek put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Find out where to go from Danny. I need you to go back, and see if you can find anything, _anything_ that will hurt this thing.”

Stiles looked over at Isaac and Malia; they were busy talking. “Try and not get killed, okay?”

He smiled. “I promise. Now go.”

xXxX

Scott was fast, and he was strong. Jackson was strong, too, if a little slower and less subtle. Peter, of course, had years of experience on all of them, and was smarter in his movements, even if he may be a little weaker.

That was the trouble with all of them training together so often. They all knew each other’s strengths, but more importantly their weaknesses.

Derek, Isaac, and Malia got to the clearing to see the other three already going at each other, tearing and biting and clawing. Just before they’d jumped in, hoping to turn it into a one-on-one fight, Derek had noticed the big, black raven perched on a branch nearby. It was watching and hopping along excitedly, clearly feeding on the chaos.

It was another twenty minutes and the others showed up, and Chris had come along, too. Soon, the clearing had turned into a complete battle zone. It was all smoky from the flash grenades, and it had blinded them enough that they’d crawled away to regain their sight and heal as much as they could before others were ready to attack.

Derek tried to focus. He had long, thick gashes through his chest and across his stomach, courtesy of Jackson. They were healing, but the blood loss was making him feel sick. He could sense Peter not very far away, but he wasn’t getting up soon. Lydia had gotten him in the leg, chest, and arm with crossbow bolts. They were barbed at the ends, so getting them out would take him a while.

He heard a scrambling noise, and his sight was back enough to see Stiles crawl up to his side.

“Did you…”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. I think I got it.”

He peeked over the log that Derek had hidden behind. “That’s it right? The raven?”

After Derek nodded, Stiles looked around. “Stay here.”

A couple of minutes later, and there was a loud thud, and a squawk. Derek was able to sit up and look.

The girl, Lovisa stood in the middle of the clearing, and she was sending death glares at Stiles. It looked like he’d thrown a rock at her. He kept looking to his right.

“Foolish child.”

It was the first time Lovisa had spoken, and her voice was nothing but a harsh croak.

“You cannot kill me.”

Stiles shook his head, and jumped into the bushes. “Now!”

Crackles of lightning shot across through the air, finding their way to Lovisa, who jolted and spasmed and screamed, then there was a ‘pop’, and she was gone. All that was left was a pile of smoking ebony feathers.

All around the boarder of the clearing, the others started getting up and walking out into the open, gathering around where Lovisa had last stood.

Derek still felt skin reknitting, but he got up and joined the others. Some of them were still hurt, but no one had died. Definitely a win.

Malia looked at Kira. “So, you’re…God?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “No, she is not God. I finally figured it out. We were dealing with a Nordic myth, so I looked into Nordic gods, and thought, hey maybe God means Thor. Which would mean lightning.”

He motioned to the pile of feathers. “It was a good guess.”

Lydia slapped him on the back of the head, hard. “You were _guessing_?”

Scott looked impressed. “He was right. Good guess work.”

He held the hand that wasn’t still healing up for a high five, but Stiles just shook his head, rubbing at it, and started walking back towards the pathway. “No one is talking to you, Scotty.”

xxXX

A few days later, and Kira was still ‘accidently’ electrocuting Scott, and Lydia pretended that Jackson was invisible. But, really, it could have been a lot worse.

Derek came downstairs from his bedroom, and they were all there, most of them playing some loud driving game, Peter reading off to the side. Stiles was sitting at the table, staring intently at a pan of water in front of him.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t look up. “I’m trying to make water boil.”

Derek hadn’t even opened his mouth but Stiles pointed at him. “And I swear to _God_ , if you tell me ‘a watched pot never boils’, I am going to…”

“Poison me to death, I remember. Why do you want to boil water?”

He sat down across from Stiles, who let out what he clearly thought was a diabolical laugh.

“Because Alan can’t do it. If I show him that my powers are greater than his, then the apprentice shall become the master.”

Derek snorted. “You’re gonna boil water, and become Darth Vader?”

“Dude, no, I will be pre-Sith Anakin.”

He stopped and looked up at him. “You like Star Wars?”

Derek rolled his eyes. Peter came and sat with them. Stiles frowned at him, then returned his attention back to the water. After a few minutes, Peter spoke up.

“Stiles, I think that there’s a better way to do that.”

Stiles turned a full glare at him. “And what way is that?”

Peter didn’t look fazed at all. “How did you tap into the elemental powers to begin with?”

He looked surprised but answered. “There was a lot of meditation. Then one day, it was like an egg cracked in my mind.”

Derek tried really hard not to laugh. Stiles and Peter both threw him a look, which was kind of scary. God save them all if those two ever started honestly plotting together.

“Stuff started trickling out, and I just knew…things. Like how to connect to the Nemeton and…”

He glanced over at Derek. “That thing we looked into.”

Derek nodded to show he understood and Peter didn’t ask. “And he started teaching me the trick with the candle.”

“And how do you light the candle?”

Stiles frowned. “I just sort of, I don’t know, imagine it. It’s hard to describe.”

Peter leaned forward. “You’re thinking too hard. Stop willing the water to boil, and picture it instead. You’re dealing with elemental forces, old as time, they won’t be bossed around. Just let it flow.”

Stiles looked at him with a healthy amount of skepticism, but turned his attention back to the pan.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then the water started bubbling slightly. Stiles huffed in relief. “Oh my God, it worked!”

Peter looked smug and stood up. He walked so that he was behind Stiles and leaned down so their faces were close.

“Remember that story I told you? A long time ago.”

Stiles licked his bottom lip and started tapping his fingers absently. “Yeah. What about it?”

“There are two other parties you should hear from about that situation.”

“Two?”

Peter backed away. “You’re a smart man. It’ll come to you.”

He went and got his keys and left. Stiles wouldn’t look at him, just tried to make the water boil again. “No offence, but your uncle is a creeper.”

“What was he talking about?”

But Stiles just acted like he didn’t hear him, and accidently made the water freeze over.

XxXx

A few days passed, and towards the middle of the day on a Tuesday, Derek started feeling a pull. Just a gentle tug, a sudden desire to go to the Preserve. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do, so he went. The tugging dragged him further and further in until he was unconsciously walking into the clearing where the Nemeton was. And there was Stiles, sitting on the stump like it was the most comfortable place in the world, again.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

Stiles laughed. “No. It’s a teacher workday. I’ve been honing my awesome foresty meditation powers.”

It took Derek a minute to understand. “ _You_ brought me here?”

He shrugged. “It was an experiment.”

Stiles shifted around, making room. “And I needed to talk to you alone where no one would pop in on us.”

Derek came closer and sat across from him, so they were facing each other. “Is this about what Peter said the other day?”

He nodded. “Tell me about Paige.”

Derek felt himself go cold. He hadn’t talked about her in years. “Peter told you?”

“He told me his version. And you know how much Peter can be trusted most of the time. But I said that one day, if I needed to, I’d get your side of the story.”

“He said two people.”

Stiles looked down at the Nemeton. “Like I said before, she knows you. She felt you that night.”

His eyes drifted shut, and suddenly Stiles didn’t quite sound like Stiles. There was a little bit of an echo, like there was two of him.

“She felt your pain, and her pain. And your grief. She wept with you that night. She weeps for you still.”

Stiles’ eyelashes were getting damp. “What happened?”

Derek sighed. “Nothing you don’t already know. I loved her. Peter convinced me she’d run if she knew what I was. Another Alpha turned her, and it was killing her. I brought Paige here, and she didn’t want to suffer. So…I made sure she didn’t.”

Stiles’ head tilted to the side, in a way that he didn’t usually do. His eyes opened, and his eyes were filmed over in a weird silvery green. It hit him that he wasn’t just talking to Stiles, he was talking with the forest, with the Nemeton.

“Now, tell me about Kathrine.”

Derek huffed. “You already know about that.”

“We need to know more.”

Okay, that was eerie enough to shock him into speaking. “It was the summer between my junior and senior years. She was a little older than me, and gorgeous. She already knew what I was, and wasn’t afraid. I thought that that was pretty awesome. I went out with her and she bought me drinks, and…well, I told her stuff. We had a kind of, uhm, trade agreement.”

Derek shrugged. “That was it. Laura and I left for New York after the fire. She never did blame me, even though she should have.”

Stiles hadn’t blinked while he talked, and it was weirding him out. “And after that?”

“After what?”

“In New York. Did you have any one there you were close to?”

Only Laura had known about this, but Derek trusted Stiles, and really, who was the forest going to tell?

“There were a couple of guys.”

Stiles tilted his head again, not looking surprised at all. “Uhm, the first one was Alvin…”

He snorted, an act that proved it was definitely Stiles still in there. “You dated a chipmunk?”

“He went by Al, thank you very much. He went to Julliard.”

“You like the musicians, don’t you? What did he play?”

“Piano. It didn’t last long. He was really busy, and I was still…recovering from Kate. It was nice, though, while it lasted.”

“And the other?”

He bit his lip and looked down. “Uh, his name was Marco. We were together for almost two years.”

Stiles startled at that. “Wow.”

“Yeah. We had an apartment together, and he worked at a hospital. He was a radiologist, and I worked at a garage. He knew about me and Laura.”

He laughed. “Laura loved him. I think some days she liked Marco more than she liked me.”

Stiles just looked sad. “What happened?”

“He started seeing someone else. I should have been able to put it together; his scent changed, he said his work schedule kept getting moved around. But I guess I just put it out of my mind, because I didn’t want to believe it.”

Derek sighed and looked back down at the rings in the wood. “Then one day I come home and Marco was just oozing guilt. The woman he’d been seeing was pregnant, and he was going to be with her. So I got all my stuff and moved in with Laura. A few months later, and she came back here. And, well, you were here when I was with…”

Stiles held his hand up. “Don’t speak of the witch. Your luck is absolute shit, I hope you know that.”

He blinked and the film was gone, his voice back to normal. Stiles looked pale and woozy all of a sudden. “Sorry. I think she just needed to hear how you were.”

“The tree?”

Stiles glared. “It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

He stood up, but was definitely woozy, and Derek just managed to catch him by the waist before he fell down. Stiles flailed and threw his arms around Derek’s shoulders like he was still afraid of faceplanting.

“She wants you to be happy, Derek.”

Derek realized how close they were, but wasn’t going to let go until he was sure Stiles could stand. “I am happy.”

“I don’t even need super awesome wolf hearing to know that that’s a lie.”

Derek sighed. “You want the truth? _You_ make me happy, okay. And I think that’s enough heart-to-heart crap for the day.”

He dropped his hands from Stiles’ waist, but Stiles clung on.

“Oho, no sir! The last time we did this it sucked, so I’m calling do-over.”

Derek huffed and was about to ask what the hell he was talking about, but Stiles moved so his hands were at the back of Derek’s neck and he kissed him. It was much better than the last time. Derek kissed back immediately, putting his hands on his lower back, and he felt the now very familiar warmth that he associated with Stiles spreading out from his stomach.

After a minute, Stiles pulled back and rested his forehead against Derek’s. “I’ve been wanting to do that for forever.” His breath was warm against Derek’s lips, and he moved so they were kissing again.

“I know the feeling.”

Stiles took a small step back, but never let go of Derek. “Why did it take us this long?”

He had to laugh. “One? If you were still underage, your dad would have raided Chris’ ammo for wolf’s bane bullets…”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “…And two, I just told you. Of the five people I’ve been in a relationship with, three are dead. You’re signing your own death warrant.”

Derek felt cold again, and dropped his hands, stepping away. Once again, Stiles grabbed him back. “You just said it. It’s my _own_ choice. Besides, we put our lives on the line all the time. You think you’re something special? News flash, buddy, you aren’t. _Scott_ has a better chance of getting me killed than you do.”

He felt a low growl come up in his throat. “You’re sure?”

Stiles flailed his arms out. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”

Derek reached and put his hand against Stiles’ cheek, brushing the bottom of his lip with his thumb. Stiles let his eyes fall shut. Was he really allowed to have this?

But it wasn’t really just about him, was it? Stiles had been through a lot, and not just recently. If he could be something good for Stiles, then didn’t Stiles deserve it, too?

“You’re thinking too loud. And I don’t think its question of what we deserve, but of what we need and want. And I really, _really_ , want you.”

Derek was confused for a second, then realized that they were still on the Nemeton and how Stiles had been able to hear his thoughts before. He quickly helped him down. “Stay out of my head, that’s creepy.”

Stiles just smiled. “Hey, it’s not my fault that the tree wants us to be together.”

“You’re gonna be so much harder to put up with now, aren’t you?”

He stepped closer and kissed Derek again. “I’d like to think I’ve matured enough to not point out all the innuendos in that…”

And, like the first time they’d done this, Derek kissed him, just to make him stop talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep up the feedback, y'all! :D


	3. Vampires and Verbena

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys...Are SO AWESOME!!
> 
> Individual warnings: Sexy times, feelings, violence, injuries, and guess what? Vampires!

They drove their separate vehicles back to Stiles’ house. If it were a day off from school, then there was a high likelihood that some of the others would be at Derek’s place. Derek parked around the corner, like he usually did, and beat Stiles to his bedroom by climbing through the window. The startled little jump Stiles did when he saw Derek already there was totally worth it.

“Jeeze, dude, don’t…”

Remembering a conversation they’d had a while ago, Derek grabbed him by the upper arms and shoved him against the wall next to his door. Not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to get the point across. All the air went out of Stiles, and he looked at Derek, all wide-eyed and flushed.

He looked nervous for all of ten seconds before he looped his fingers around Derek’s belt and yanked him even closer. Stiles was warm everywhere; his lips, his mouth, his hands when they reached under Derek’s shirt and grabbed at his sides.

Stiles had managed to distract him well enough that Derek didn’t realize that he’d guided him over to his bed until Stiles pushed him so he was sitting and Stiles was straddling his lap.

Derek put his hand back on Stiles’ shoulder and pushed him back a little bit. “Hang on a second.”

Stiles pouted, and that just wasn’t fair. “What’s up?”

No, seriously, he was having issues concentrating with Stiles’ face so close and right _there_ on his lap. Stiles must have understood somehow, because he rolled his eyes and stood up, sitting back down next to him on the bed. Never one to just sit still, he almost immediately started jiggling his leg up and down, and tapping his fingers together.

Derek reached over and took one of Stiles’ hands in his own. “Hey. You aren’t dreaming.”

Stiles’ heartbeat was already faster than usual, but it kicked up a little faster for a second. “Yeah, well Dream you would say that.”

Derek squeezed his hand. “Okay, would Dream me do this?”

It was so stupid, and he felt embarrassed just doing it, but he leaned over and licked the long line from the bottom of Stiles’ neck up to his ear. He shuddered and clamped on to Derek’s hand hard. Totally worth it.

“Ugh, if Dream you _did_ do that, then I’d be sleeping more.”

Derek pulled away. “You still aren’t sleeping?”

Stiles flailed and almost hit him in the nose. “ _Not_ the point! You still haven’t told me what’s going on?”

What? Oh.

“We have a while. I mean, I hope we’ll have _all_ the time possible. So, I don’t know what it is, exactly, that you want here.”

Stiles mouthed wordlessly at him for a few seconds. “Dude, if we do have all the time possible, then I’m gonna want to put that time to all the best uses we can think of.”

The _wanting_ was coming off Stiles in clouds. “I mean, I’m not saying ‘do everything right here right now’, but we should definitely be doing… _something_.”

Derek opened his mouth, but Stiles held up his hand. “And if you ask me if I’m sure, I’ll…”

He interrupted. “Remember when I used to make empty death threats to you?”

“Those were empty?”

Derek rolled his eyes and stood up. “Lay down.”

Stiles looked confused, then his eyes lit up. “Seriously?”

Derek nodded, and Stiles moved around so he lying on his pillows. Derek took a second to just look at him, half-tempted to test and see if _he_ was the one dreaming.

“Uh, Derek? Feeling a little weird here.”

He shook his head, and climbed so he was kneeling over Stiles. “Sorry.”

Stiles reached, and pulled him down. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

It was better than Derek had imagined it would be, holding Stiles beneath him, hot, and soft, and hard in all the best places and best ways. Stiles kissed the same way he did everything else; impulsive, curious, and… _loudly_.

Derek had pulled away, sucking up Stiles’ neck, and he seemed to really like that. Derek would never bruise for very long, so he figured he needed to leave enough marks on Stiles for both of them.

Stiles wasn’t complaining.

“Your mouth is, like, perfect, dude. I can’t believe we could have been doing this for _weeks_ now. I kind of hate us. Have I told you you’re perfect?”

He kept up like that, until the first time Derek moved his hips, purposefully rubbing their erections together.

“Oh, God, wait…”

Derek pulled away immediately. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles huffed. “We are so far from wrong, you have no idea. It’s just, this isn’t gonna last long, and I really, _really_ don’t want to come in my pants.”

He leaned back down and brushed his nose against Stiles’, just before he caught a scent, and an instinctive recognition. “Isaac.”

“Okay. You better hope you’re Dream Derek, otherwise Real Derek is about ten seconds away from being neutered.”

“No, you idiot. Isaac is on his way here. He’s just a couple of streets away.”

Stiles’ eyes widened. “What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh my…Up, get _up_.”

Stiles pushed him off and shoved him into the armchair, and threw a book at his head before sitting at his desk, trying to boot his computer back up and getting on Wikipedia and clicking the ‘random page’ button.

Derek took a second to look at him. He’d really butchered his neck; there were red blotches all over, and the way his hair was sticking up left little doubt about what they’d been doing. He heard a rustling noise, and Derek quickly opened the book.

The window creaked open, and Isaac leaned inside, grinning at them. “Hey, guys.”

Stiles turned around. “Oh, hey Isaac, my man. What’s up?”

His heartbeat was all over the place. Isaac just smiled wider. “Not much. We hadn’t seen you two all day, and Scott and I had a bet that you’d be here.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “What was the bet?”

“If you were here, then I get to eat the _whole_ lemon merengue pie Mrs. McCall is making tonight. Oh, hold on.”

He pulled his phone out. “I’ll need photographic evidence.”

Isaac still just looked overly perky and smug. “Sooo. Whatcha up to?”

Stiles shrugged. “You know. The usual.”

Isaac’s eyebrows went up. “Oh? Our next big supernatural adventure is gonna take place in a stove?”

“What?”

He pointed at Stiles’ computer screen. “You’re researching stoves, dude.”

“And Derek, that book is upside down.”

He looked. Crap.

Isaac shook his head, and unwrapped the light green scarf he had around his neck, even though it was more than warm enough out. He balled it up and threw it to Stiles. “You’ll need this more than me, unless you want a really awkward talk with your dad later.”

Stiles just groaned and dropped his face into his hand. “Thanks.”

Isaac just gave them a weird salute and dropped back down out the window. Stiles was already half way to the bathroom.

“Derek! Oh my _God_!”

XXxx

They didn’t exactly tell anyone that they were…what they were, but they didn’t really need to. Isaac showed everyone else the picture he’d taken, and it was pretty obvious. And it hadn’t taken the Sherriff very long to realize that something was off when Stiles suddenly decided to start wearing scarves.

He’d shown up at Derek’s loft two days later. He’d heard the Sherriff coming, and was able to let himself panic for a couple of minutes before he knocked on the door. He thought he’d managed to look calm and not at all worried or concerned that John had his gun on him, but the man shook his head as he came in.

“Relax, Derek. I’m not here to make any threats, or whatever it is you think I’m gonna do.”

Derek sighed. “Okay. Then…Why are you here?”

The Sherriff sat down at the table, and Derek automatically sat across from him. “Just to talk.”

“About Stiles?”

He rubbed at his head and nodded. “It didn’t take a whole lot of guess work to figure out that you two aren’t just hanging out as friends anymore. Since Stiles is legally an adult, I can’t really control what he does outside from my house.”

The Sherriff suddenly looked very serious. “So that’s what I’m here to talk about.”

“Okay?”

“You have to promise me, that no matter what, you keep him safe.”

Derek was confused. “Of course I will.”

“I’m not gonna go through what Chris Argent is going through. And I know better than to ask Stiles to stay out of this business. He’s been learning stuff from Dr. Deaton and Marin, so I know on some level he isn’t defenseless.”

He pointed at Derek, looking very severe. “But you…don’t let _anything_ serious happen to him ever again.”

Derek shook his head. “I would make that promise to you, even if Stiles and I weren’t…together.”

John smiled; it was small, and maybe a little forced, but it was there. “That’s the kind of answer I was looking for, son. The only other thing I need from you is another promise that I will _never_ walk in on…anything.”

“I can very much promise that, too.”

John held his hand out and they shook on it. “Don’t tell Stiles about this. You’re coming over for dinner tonight, and we’ll sit back and watch him sweat about it.”

Derek laughed. He had a feeling about where Stiles got some of his mischievousness from now.

XxxX

A couple of days later, and the werewolves in the pack were starting to get antsy. The full moon was coming up on them, and no matter how hard they’d all worked on controlling themselves, it was always going to be a pull on them. It was easiest on Derek and Peter, but there was still an itch.

Stiles showed up later than usual after school, at least an hour after the others had already gotten there. He came in, carrying one heavy looking backpack, and a second much lighter looking one. “Hey guys! Guess what?”

He was typically over-exuberant about something. Malia was the first to cave. “What?”

Stiles did this weird almost jazz-handsy move. “Vampires!”

They all stared at him for a long minute, and he dropped his hands. “I’m being serious, people. Actual vampires, actually here, actually now.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and went back to the car magazine he’d been reading. “There’s no such thing as _vampires_ , loser.”

Stiles snatched it out of his hand, rolled it up, and slapped Jackson on the back of the head with it. “Yeah, well there didn’t used to be such a thing as giant, venomous, lizard douchebags, but here you are.”

He hit Jackson again. “Bad doggy.”

Jackson snarled, his eyes already turning bright blue before Scott got between them. “Okay, calm down. What are you talking about vampires for?”

Stiles started spreading things out from his bag across the table. Derek could smell the Adderall on him now; it explained the case of extra jitters. He stepped behind him, and put his hand on Stiles back, where the others couldn’t see, and he could feel Stiles slowly start to calm down some. It just added to his own antsyness, but he was better at ignoring that.

Stiles opened a map of Beacon Hills. “These five dots…” he pointed to a cluster on the far outskirts of the town limits, not far from where there were a few farmhouses and open pastures before the forest closed in and got dense. Two of the dots were near nature trails that Derek recognized.  

“Those are places where they’ve found bodies over the last week. Three of them were animals, but the last two have been people.”

He took a pile of pictures out and laid them out. “Of course, they’re saying ‘animal attack’, but you can see they all have the same markings, and no animal I know of does that.”

The two humans, a cow, and two pigs, all had a large stab-like wound, and a huge oval-ish bruise around it, like a big sucker mark. Kira frowned. “But aren’t vampires supposed to have fangs?”

“Good question.” Stiles dug into his bag and pulled out a few pages printed out from the Argent’s bestiary, then he read from it.

“’The Vampire kills by piercing the flesh of its victim, usually with a nail, dagger, or small spike. They then suck all of the blood from their victim, even unhinging their jaws to expedite the process, not stopping until every drop has been consumed.’”

Lydia crinkled her nose. “That’s gross.”

“It’s here in the medical reports; the bodies were completely exsanguinated.”

“Where are they then? The vampires.”

Stiles flipped to another page. “’The vampire detests the sun, the touch of which will set them ablaze. They will sleep through the day, and hunt in the night. Fire is the only way to truly kill them. But be warned; a vampire’s sight and sense of smell can rival that of even the werewolves. They never forget a scent, and can move faster than the human eye can see.’”

He paused. “And here, this is important. ‘Be fooled not by the vampire’s human appearance. Once, they were human, but they are taken over by a fierce demonic force. There is no redemption for the vampire, for it has neither soul nor conscience.’”

Scott rubbed at his head. “Ugh. I _hate_ vampires already.”

Stiles looked back at his map. “Here…The Beacon Hills Garden of Perpetual Solace.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s a cemetery, but they changed the name a few years back. I guess ‘cemetery’ isn’t politically correct anymore. It’s less than two miles from all the attacks, and they have some crypts there. Creepy and dark, perfect for vampires.”

“How many are there?”

Stiles waved his hand. “I don’t know. The bestiary says they’re kind of loners, and don’t usually travel in groups with over three or four.”

Scott just stared at the map for a couple of minutes. “Well, we shouldn’t go at night, right? And the sun is already going down. We can’t just go check them out, ‘cause they’d get suspicious.”

He looked around at them all. “Meet back here at nine tomorrow morning…”

There were a lot of grumbles about that being way too early for a Saturday. “…And we’ll get what we need to…set them ablaze, or whatever you just said. Then we can maybe go in the middle of the day.”

Stiles nodded. “They won’t be able to run, we’d have them trapped.”

Scott clapped. “Okay. So, vampires. Awesome.”

They all started trickling out of Derek’s loft, leaving Stiles the last behind. He was still packing all his papers back into the bag, moving slowly. “You don’t have to leave.”

Stiles jumped a little and looked at him. “What?”

“You can stay. If you don’t need to be somewhere else, and you want to be here…You can.”

He smiled brightly. “Okay. Yeah. I just…”

Stiles pulled his computer and charger out of the lighter of the two bags. “I have a couple of essays to finish.”

He sat down on the floor in front of the couch and put the computer on his lap. “Do you want to watch something?”

Derek sat down, his leg right against Stiles’ shoulder. “You’ll be able to concentrate?”

Stiles looked up at him and smiled. “I’m good at multitasking.”

Derek flipped through the channels for a couple of minutes, before his own jitters started eating at him. Stiles was rarely this quiet, but Derek didn’t want him to lose his concentration. Then again…He _had_ just said that about multitasking.

“What are the essays about?”

Stiles hummed. “Oh, this year the history and English teachers got in cahoots. We could pick to write a paper about any topic we covered in class, or take the big final exam. Most of the others picked the exam, but I liked this idea better.”

He switched documents. “This is the one for English. It’s about the unreliability of the narrator in works written in the first or limited third person point of views. It’s pretty much finished, I just need to proof read.”

He switched again. “I’m writing the conclusion on this one for history; the poor treatment and conditions in the post-World War II Japanese internment camps.”

Stiles went back to typing. “What other exams do you have?”

“Calculus, which’ll be really easy. Biology, and I have that with Danny, so we’ll meet up later this week and study.”

Derek didn’t even feel the low growl building up until Stiles elbowed him in his shin. “Quit that. The only other class I have is gym, and Coach doesn’t bother giving us a real exam. He sets up this ridiculous obstacle course, and grades you on how well you get through it. But it’s just him being weird, because I still got an A after tripping and getting tangled in the volleyball net when I was a freshman.”

He felt himself laugh. Stiles’ incessant babble was keeping the moon itch away. It hit him then. Somehow, someway, Stiles had become his anchor.

Derek shook it off. “Then you’ll be a senior.”

Stiles pumped his fist. “Hell yes, I will!”

He felt an unexpected curl of grief as he watched Stiles finish his second essay, and start rereading both of them.

“Then you’ll go to college.”

He’d be leaving. Gone.

If Stiles heard any sadness, he didn’t acknowledge it. “Yep. Beacon Hills Community College.”

Wait, what? “What?”

“Yeah. I already looked into it. They have programs where you can learn about finance and bookkeeping stuff, _and_ they have intramural lacrosse and cross country teams. I’d be able to find a job here in town, easy, and make enough to support myself, and in the evenings still have plenty of time to do Emissary stuff.”

Stiles said it all so offhandedly. “What?”

He frowned and looked back up at Derek. “Dude, what’s up with you today?”

Derek ignored the question. “You are _so_ smart, you could be…”

Stiles groaned and knocked his head against Derek’s knee. “I could go to any school in the country, I _know_. I already had this talk with my dad and Lydia. I don’t want to leave.”

Derek was about to protest, but Stiles barreled on ahead, looking back to his computer. “This is _my_ territory now, too. I can’t really explain it, but just thinking about leaving for more than a month makes my chest hurt.”

He squinted. “Poor sentence structure. Alan says it’s because I’m powerful. Like, way more powerful than he is. The Druid stuff just comes to me, and the learning curve is seriously awesome. And I feel connected here. Marin thinks that the territory has _chosen_ me. So, how am I supposed to want to leave that?”

Stiles rolled his eyes at whatever look Derek had on his face. “My dad wanted a stupid… _parent/teacher conference_ with Alan and Marin. They explained everything, and I think he got it. Really, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with me going away in any case.”

Derek felt a wave of sadness wash over him from Stiles. “We’re all we have left, you know?”

There was a long quiet, punctuated by Stiles revising sentences and the television on in the background. “How long ago was this?”

Stiles looked at him, and Derek hadn’t felt that judged since his Mom had caught him trying to pounce on deer when he was ten. “Two weeks, Derek. Long enough that you can put any stupid ideas, like ‘oh crap, he’s giving away his whole life just to be with me’, out of your head. I’ve already told you; you aren’t anything super special. My wanting to stay here has very little to do with you.”

He looked back to the screen. “Besides, you’ll need me here, anyway. Fragment, consider revising my ass.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Scott, the high Alpha, is still dead set on going to vet school. And who do think he’ll be leaving in charge?”

Derek felt a little sick. He’d made a shitty Alpha. “I’ll need you here.”

“Damn right. And you know that, sooner or later, after Scott leaves, Peter will be making a power play.”

He groaned. “I don’t want to deal with this right now.”

Stiles was quiet for a couple more minutes. “And…Done! Now, I just have to e-mail copies to my Dad.”

“Why?”

He huffed. “I told him we had big, bad monsters to get rid of, so he okayed for me to be out tonight, but on the condition that these essays got done. So now he has proof.”

Stiles turned the computer off and set it aside, climbing up onto the couch, right into Derek’s side. “Now. You gonna tell me what’s up?”

He felt better already, with Stiles closer. “It’s almost the full moon.”

Stiles frowned. “It doesn’t usually bother you.”

“I’m good at hiding it. I can control the shift, but it’s still nagging at me.”

He felt a trickle of nerves seep over. “Should I go, or…”

Stiles stopped talking with a little squeak. Derek had wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. “You being here actually helps.”

Stiles’ head was close to his neck, and Derek felt him nod. “Okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Stiles got the remote and started changing channels. Derek could feel him breathing, and his steady heartbeat, and at some point, after Stiles had lifted his arm around Derek’s shoulders, he drifted off to sleep.

xxXX

When Derek shook himself awake, it was completely dark outside, and the only light inside was from the T.V and the lamp that Stiles could reach from the couch.

“Ah ha. Sleeping beauty awakens.”

Stiles was still there, and smiling at him, sending out waves of contentment and amusement. They pulled away from each other, Stiles stretching his back and arms out. “Sorry.”

He scoffed. “For sleeping? The only thing you should be sorry for are the pics I took. You’re adorable, did you know that?”

Derek tried to growl at him. Stiles frowned and put his hand on the side of his face. “Seriously, dude. Are you okay? As far as I can tell, the other guys are all fine, so what’s with you?”

He tilted his head into Stiles’ hand. “It’s hard to explain.”

Stiles didn’t look deterred in any sense. “Should I take notes for future wolfy reference?”

He rolled his eyes, and that seemed to make Stiles a little happier. “It’s about anchors.”

Derek’s audience was very attentive, dropping his hand and putting it on Derek’s knee. “Okay. What about them?”

“Mine was anger, for such a long time. And that was my only anchor from when I left here.”

“What was your anchor before then?”

He sighed. “My family, my mother. After the fire, Laura wasn’t enough. I needed something stronger, and anger was the strongest thing I had.”

There was a nervous silence. “Even when you were with Marco?”

The question was loaded with insecurity. “Marco was different. He knew, but he didn’t really _understand_.”

Derek wanted to make his point very clear. “You understand.”

He sighed. “It’s a Druid thing, I think…”

He easily grabbed Stiles’ hand. The one now tapping out on Derek’s knee. “No. It’s a you thing. Shut up.”

Stiles had a ridiculous smile on his face. “So, what does that have to do with anchors?”

“Anger is a pretty negative thing to use to anchor yourself to. Something more positive, like…Seriously, shut up!”

He held his free hand up. “I didn’t say anything! Chill, Derek.”

And he did, a lot of the very mild irritation draining away. “Oh, cool. I have werewolf control powers now!”

Derek rolled his eyes. “It will only work on me, and the _only_ reason its working now is because it’s so close to the full moon, and I need to focus on my anchor.”

“Which would be me. Right?”

Still with the insecurity. “Yeah. That is most definitely you right now.”

It was the moon itch, he tried to keep reminding himself of that. He lifted the hand he was still holding, and kissed the back, then up and around to the inside of Stiles’ wrist. When he looked up, Stiles was staring at him, eyes wide, and sending off some pretty heady waves of arousal.

He was trying to mouth around words, and Derek took a moment to appreciate the fact that he’d rendered Stiles Stilinski speechless, just by kissing his hand. That was pretty awesome. He needed a medal.

Moon itch, remember.

Stiles huffed out a breath he probably didn’t know he’d been holding. “So. Tomorrow we face down a horde of vampires. Nest? Flock? A _murder_! A murder of vampires.”

“That’s not what they’re called.”

“Not the point. My _point_ is…A murder of vampires. It could get messy. We should be making with the good stuff while the going’s still, you know, going.” The insecurity was still there, but easing away.

Derek grinned. “You don’t have to use monsters as an excuse.”

He stood up. “Come on.”

Stiles had a second look of mild panic. “What? Where?”

Derek nodded towards the spiral staircase leading up to his bedroom. He sent out another wave of nerves. Excited nerves, though. “I don’t think I’ve ever been up there.”

He held his hand out again, and Stiles took it, following him. Derek didn’t think his room was anything special. He had a simple, old-fashioned brass bed frame salvaged from the burnt shell of his childhood home. It had belonged to his parents.

He had a small desk and one of the dining room table chairs as the desk chair. He’d set up the laptop that Peter had forced on him there, and a tall lamp beside it. He supposed it was okay. Danny had helped him get some games that he didn’t mind playing. And he’d been able to get a decent music library started.

The bed-side tables and chest of drawers he’d gotten at two separate yard sales. He kept the closet door closed normally; that was where he’d stored away things he wanted to keep safe. What remained of the family library, Laura’s ring that had been passed down for three generations of Hales, a lock of Paige’s hair that he’d kept in a silver box with music notes around the edges, a sweatshirt of Marco’s that he’d stolen when he moved out, a CD of Al playing piano. Small treasures that reminded him of a life he could have had.

Morbid maybe, but that was how he was.

There was an attached bathroom. None of the towels or washcloths matched, he’d never bothered with a bathmat, and his shower curtain was a horrible orange color, because that one was on sale.

Derek didn’t bother closing the door behind them, but Stiles still kind of stood in the corner, looking around, but not being his usual curious self.

“Stiles? What’s wrong?”

He flailed. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just…such a grown up room.”

Derek shook his head. “It really isn’t. Just…come here.”

Stiles automatically crossed the room to where Derek was standing next to the bed. He put his hands on Stiles’ hips and pulled him closer. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please?”

The ‘please’ must have done it. Stiles leaned in closer, wrapping his hands around Derek’s shoulders and leaned so his forehead was pressed to Derek’s neck. “Ugh. You’re too hot.”

Derek would never have been able to hold back the snort he let out at that. “I’m…sorry?”

He could picture the glare he’d be getting if Stiles wasn’t hiding against him. “I am very not hot.”

There was something new coming from Stiles. Embarrassment? Was he being self-conscious? Well, that could be fixed.

Derek pushed Stiles back gently, and his face was bright red. “Would I want to be with you if I didn’t think you were attractive?”

His face actually got redder. “I dunno. Maybe?”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s it. We have until nine in the morning, and if I have to use every minute, I’m going to prove to you _exactly_ how hot you are.”

Stiles made some kind of strangled squeak. He was nervous enough, so Derek held himself back from laughing. He leaned forward, so he could touch his nose against Stiles’, then across his cheek, down to under his ear, and then up into his hair.

He finally spoke, voice unusually high. “Is this some kind of wolfy thing?”

“You, genius, who I know has been reading crazy amounts of lore on werewolves, know that our sense of smell is our most important. If I want someone, then their scent is different. Pheromones. And you have all kinds of pheromones coming off of you.”

Stiles breathed out, and Derek breathed him in some more. He was intoxicating.

“Intoxicating?”

He’d said that out loud.

“Yes, intoxicating. It’s enough to make me want to rip your clothes off.”

Another wave of insecurity. He reached up and pushed the thin zippered hoodie off of Stiles’ shoulders. “You play lacrosse, right?”

Of course, he knew the answer, but he was trying to build Stiles up. “Yeah,” he sighed.

“Well, it shows. You need upper body strength, don’t you? Yeah, you don’t have huge arm muscles…”

Stiles squirmed a little when Derek ran his hands up from his wrists to his shoulders. “…But I can feel them. And I know from first-hand experience that you’re a strong swimmer. I feel how strong you are, okay?”

Derek hadn’t realized that Stiles had been keeping his eyes closed, but he was opening them now. “Okay?” It was more another question than answer.

Derek edged his fingers under the t-shirt. “I’m taking this off.”

He gave Stiles a few seconds to flail around if he needed to, but he just lifted his arms obediently. “You aren’t built like the rest of us…”

Derek ran the fingertips of one hand down Stiles, from his collar bone, down his sternum, over his stomach, and stopping less than an inch from the waist of his jeans. Stiles shivered under his hand, but the nerves and insecurity kept seeping away.

“If you were it would make everything boring.”

He walked around Stiles and leaned over his shoulder, making sure his whole body was pressed against Stiles’ back, knowing he’d be able to feel him getting hard. He got close to his ear. “And I’m not interested in having sex with myself.”

Stiles leaned back, groaning. “Shit, that is so unbelievably not fair.”

Derek laughed and kissed the back of his neck, and across a shoulder. “I am in no way sorry.”

Stiles spun around, and grabbed the hem of Derek’s Henley. “Off, off, _off_.”

After that, Stiles just sort of full-on tackled him, Derek letting himself be pushed onto his bed so that Stiles wouldn’t hurt himself. It looked like he’d pushed the On button, and there was no seeable Off button.

Not that he was looking for one. Especially not when Stiles was trying to yank Derek’s pants off, and then cursing loudly when he realized they’d both forgotten about shoes and socks.

They were in the bed, in nothing but their boxers, bodies completely touching, when another wave of insecurity and nerves washed over from Stiles. Derek pulled back. “Everything okay?”

Stiles reached up and touched his face. He seemed to like to do that. Derek turned and kissed his palm.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

His heart jumped. “Stiles…We don’t…”

Stiles interrupted him by groaning and dropping his head onto Derek’s chest. His breathing was tickling across a nipple, and it was extremely distracting.

“I _know_. I want to.”

His heart stayed steady.

“What is it you want to do?”

The heartbeat jumped, and Derek was hit by what he now realized was shyness.

“I don’t know,” his voice was muffled. “Some _relief_ , maybe?”

Derek flipped him over quickly, and Stiles made a funny little squawk of surprise. “What are you doing?”

“You trust me, right?”

Stiles huffed. “Obviously, dude.”

“Then relax, and trust me.”

Derek pulled the boxers off of Stiles, then remembering how self-conscious he’d been, took his own off, too. Stiles was leaning up on his elbows, watching, and another heady cloud of arousal hit him.

He nudged, and Stiles automatically spread his knees far enough apart for Derek to fit between them. He kissed on the inside of Stiles’ knee, and kept going up the inside of his thigh, then switching to the other leg. Stiles groaned and flopped back, elbows not supporting him anymore.

“You’re killing me.”

Derek chuckled, his face close enough to Stiles’ dick that it made him full-body shiver. “ _Killing_ me.”

“You want me to stop?”

“Don’t you dare!”

Derek laughed again, and finally buried his nose in the dense hair, breathing in that incredible smell. Stiles groaned. “Oh my God…Have I told you yet that you’re perfect? My certain death notwithstanding?”

He just answered by licking one long stripe from the base to the head. Stiles grabbed one of the pillows and all but screamed into it. “Hey. No one’s gonna hear you.”

Stiles threw the pillow at him, and totally missed by several feet. “That sounded creepy.”

He licked again, and this time Stiles moaned loud enough that maybe someone _would_ hear him. Derek figured he should probably get on with this. He wrapped one hand around the base, and kept the other hand on Stiles’ hip, because he had the feeling that Stiles was the type who’d try to start bucking into his mouth.

Stiles tasted awesome. He tasted like…Stiles. He was hot, and heavy in his mouth. It had been a while since he’d done this, but any signs of being out of practice did not seem to bother Stiles at all.

He flailed around for a minute before he just gave in and dropped both hands into Derek’s hair. Not exactly pulling very much, he was just there, and it was reassuring.

Stiles didn’t give him any warning. Possibly he wasn’t aware of how quickly he was going off the edge, but soon Stiles was pulsing in his mouth, and Derek swallowed as much come as he could, then burying his nose back at the base, inhaling for as long as he could before Stiles was weakly prodding his shoulder.

“Come back up here. That’s starting to be really uncomfortable.”

Derek settled for breathing in the sweat on Stiles’ neck and his hair. Stiles was shaking. “Are you okay?”

Stiles pulled back. “’Okay’? Am I ‘okay’? Dude, seriously… _Wow_.”

He rolled his eyes and tried to ignore how turned on he still was.

“Derek, I’m being serious. That was awesome.”

“Most people are _quiet_ in their afterglow.”

“When have I ever been quiet?”

Derek leaned down and kissed him, open-mouthed and warm, not thinking about whether or not Stiles would care about the vestiges of his own come on his tongue. That was apparently a nonissue.

Stiles managed to roll them over. “I haven’t forgotten. I…uhm.”

He looked a little embarrassed. “I’m not ready to do _all_ of that yet, but I think I can do this.”

Stiles mirrored how Derek would rub their noses together, and he reached down and wrapped those long fingers around him. “Do you have…?”

Derek didn’t let him finish. “First drawer on that side.”

Stiles leaned over and came back with an almost empty bottle of lubricant. “Dude, that’s depressing.”

Derek tried to glare at him, but it was hard to do when Stiles was warming it between his fingers…long, _pretty_ , fingers, and then slowly pulling up and down Derek’s shaft, adding a few twists.

“It’s your fault.”

Stiles smiled. It was normal, almost a little deviant. He started going faster, and Derek couldn’t help bucking up into his fist. “Ugh, I think I’m about to…”

He ducked down, and put just the head of his dick in his mouth as Derek came. He lost sight for a second, but when he opened his eyes, Stiles was leaning over him, still very sexily deviant.

“What? You got to taste mine.”

There was still a little bit on the corner of Stiles’ mouth.

This time, it was Derek who did the tackling, Stiles laughing as he got squished down into the mattress.

XxxX

“Pancakes!”

Derek pulled the pillow that still smelled like Stiles over his head. _He_ would be a morning person.

“Come on. The others’ll be here soon. And they will steal _all_ the pancakes.”

He groaned and sat up. Stiles was standing in the doorway, smiling. He’d brought over a change of clothes, so that would at least stop any questions about him wearing the same thing two days in a row. What he had been wearing yesterday was still strewn on his bedroom floor.

“Derek. Clothes, pancakes. Hurry up.”

Stiles looked…brighter, and he smelled like saffron, old paper, and lemon verbena. He’d always smelled that way, but it had dimmed significantly, almost to the point where he couldn’t sense it, ever since he’d been possessed. He’d assumed it was a side-effect of the ‘void’. Derek got up and looked through his dresser for clothes, very aware of Stiles watching him.

“I’ll…uhm, go back downstairs.”

Derek smiled as he left. Stiles obviously thought he was being quiet enough, but he could hear him clearly whispering as he puttered around the living room. Stuff about how ‘that much hotness should be illegal’, and ‘holy hell last night actually happened’, and ‘shit the others will be able to tell won’t they’.

He laughed as he came down the stairs. “You know I can hear you?”

Stiles was standing in the middle of the room, clutching his laptop to his chest. “Sorry.”

Derek shrugged. “And yes, most of them will probably know, or will be able to figure it out. I think Lydia has some sort of built in sex radar.”

He groaned and flopped back on the couch. “Ugh. Scott is gonna give me hell.”

Derek found the pancakes. Stiles was a nervous cooker; he’d made enough to feed the Spanish Armada. And in four different flavors, too; chocolate chip, blueberry, plain, and banana. He grabbed three of each.

Stiles set up a little straighter. “Ha! Tough. I had to listen to all his crap when he was with…”

He let his voice trail off, and Derek felt a trickle of guilt and sadness. “He’s gonna give me hell,” he resigned.

Derek couldn’t say anything; his mouth was too full. Stiles turned and looked at him, brightening up and shoving his computer into one of the bags. “Are they okay?”

He could just give him a thumbs-up, and it was then that there was a quick knock and Lydia and Kira came in, Lydia winking very openly at Stiles, and told him way to go. Peter was only a few minutes behind, then Danny and Jackson, who’d picked Malia up. Scott and Isaac were last. As Stiles predicted, as soon as he walked in, Scott shot them both narrow-eyed, suspicious looks.

Derek couldn’t find it in him to be embarrassed at all.

Everyone was crowding around and shoving at each other to get at the pancakes, and it was another hour before Scott brought up the vampires. “So, what are we doing?”

“I thought about it, and I think they’re probably in the Malone crypt. It’s that one with just the one window. All the others have openings at the top, where more sun could probably get in,” Stiles offered, some unknown emotion coming off of him. Derek assumed it was nerves.

Lydia motioned at a box she and Kira had carried in. “We made a few of those Molotov cocktails.”

Peter glared at the box, and Derek vaguely remembered what Stiles had said the night before about his uncle making a power play in the future. Well, he’d already killed him once. If he had to, he’d do it again.

Scott chewed on his last forkful of pancake. “We’ll go around noon, then. Open the door, and throw those in. Hopefully there’s just one.”

XXxx

“’Hopefully there’s just one’. Way to jinx everything!”

Stiles was bitching at Scott from the back seat of his Jeep, which Derek was driving. Scott turned in the passenger seat and looked apologetic.

“Sorry, man. You said they were loners…”

Stiles groaned and let his head fall back, holding on to his upper arm as tightly as he could. Derek could smell the blood and Stiles’ pain.

As it had happened, the vampires had joined a few groups together, and there had been ten total. Most of them caught fire and exploded into dust quickly, but there were three that attacked back, and the pack had run out of the explosives. They couldn’t leave the dark of the crypt, so Isaac had managed to tackle one of them and roll out into the sunshine. Isaac’s whole arm got scorched when the vampire started burning and was still holding on, but he had already started healing when Scott and Derek left with Stiles.

Malia had completely shifted into her coyote form and clamped down on one of their necks and started dragging it outside, too. The vampire had tried clawing at her and she’d been whimpering, and that was when Kira stabbed it with her sword and together they managed to drag and toss it.

Of the two humans, Danny had done the smart thing and ran outside to make sure Isaac was okay. Stiles, of course, wasn’t so smart. The last vampire had honed in on the only human it could sense, and the bestiary had been right about one thing; they moved even faster than Derek could see. It had thrown Stiles across the crypt, and he hit the wall on his left side, definitely bruising if not breaking some ribs and cutting a long, thick gash down his arm.

But before anyone else could do anything, the vampire just caught on fire when the smoking ember from one of the cocktails suddenly flared up. Then Stiles had wheezed out, ‘huh, didn’t think that would work’, before passing out for a couple of minutes.

The cut in his arm would need stitches and his ribs looked at, so they were headed towards the hospital. Derek reached back and touched Stiles’ knee, automatically drawing pain away. Stiles sighed and Derek felt him relax some.

Scott called his mom before they got there, and she was waiting for them in the emergency room, shaking her head as she took in Stiles, walking supported by Derek.

Mrs. McCall led them to a room and shut the door, and Derek helped Stiles to sit on the side of the bed. “The vampires were real?”

Scott shrugged. “Sorry?”

She huffed, and started helping Stiles out of his shirt to get a better look at the cut and his side. “Just when I get used to one thing being real, something else pops up.”

She looked between the three of them. “Seriously, though. Vampires?”

“We took care of them, Mom.”

“Of course you did,” she muttered under her breath, trying to sound exasperated, but Derek could tell that she was proud, not just of Scott, but Stiles, too. She silently handed him a large bandage to hold against the gash that was still bleeding some.

She grimaced when she got a look at Stiles’ side. It was already purple and blue, from his shoulder down his side and a little on his back ending just below his ribcage.

“Ouch. I’m going to get the doctor. You’ll need some x-rays after he stitches that up. And I’ll have to call your dad.”

Stiles sighed, but nodded, not even bothering to argue. If that wasn’t a testament to how much pain he was in, then Derek didn’t know what would be.

Mrs. McCall left, and the first thing Derek did was put his hand on Stiles’ knee and leeched more of the pain away. His eyes rolled back. “Thank you.”

“You’re an idiot.” He probably should have said something different.

Scott nodded. “He’s right. You are an idiot.”

Stiles just smiled tightly. “Look at that. My boys are agreeing on something.”

Derek sighed while Scott gaped around indignantly about being ‘one of his boys’. “I should probably go…”

He was hit with a wave of panic. “What? Why?”

Derek thought back to the conversation he’d had with the Sherriff. “Your dad isn’t going to be very happy with me.”

Scott shifted nervously. “What, Mom? Coming!” He ducked out of the room, either forgetting or ignoring that Derek could easily hear Mrs. McCall _not_ calling for him.

Stiles tried to get comfortable. “Subtlety, thy name is so not Scott McCall. What are you talking about? My dad actually likes you.”

“I made a promise…”

He interrupted. “…That nothing seriously bad would happen to me. He told me.”

Stiles sounded annoyed. “Which, hey, is nice in theory and all. But nothing serious happened…”

Derek picked up the very blood-stained shirt. “This isn’t serious?”

Stiles shook his head. “ _No_ , it isn’t. You think this is the first time I’ve had to come and get stitches, or bruised some ribs?”

He had to stop at that. “I was an accident prone kid, with an accident prone, asthmatic best friend. This is nothing new. The fact that it happened killing vampires…well, that’s a little new.”

He pointed at Derek. “And I haven’t heard anyone telling me how awesome it was that I caught someone on fire…with my _mind_!”

Derek gave in, and sat in the small chair in the corner of the room. “It was pretty cool, I’ll give you that.”

He stayed with Stiles while the doctor came in and cleaned the gash out and gave him antibiotic shots, and something to numb the area while he stitched his arm up. Stiles went all pale when the needles came out and Derek thought for a minute that he might pass out, but he calmed himself down. It didn’t take too long, but about halfway through, Derek felt something new coming off of Stiles. It was almost like guilt, but there was sadness, too, and regret. It reminded him of the emotion he’d felt from him before they’d left his loft.

The doctor had finished, and wrapped a clean bandage around his arm, and was leaving the room when the Sherriff came in. Like Stiles had said, he didn’t seem angry. Resigned was probably a good word.

“Well, son, what’d you get into this time?”

Stiles looked very put out. “Did no one believe me about the vampires?”

John looked over to Derek, who nodded. “That’s what they were.”

“So, the deaths and livestock mutilation…That’s stopped?”

Stiles was looking tired, and pained again, so Derek slipped a hand behind him, touching on his back where John wouldn’t see his arm turning black, and took more of the pain.

He’d forgotten just how observant John was. “What did you just do?”

Unfortunately, Stiles answered. “It’s a wolfy thing. A _cool_ wolfy thing.”

He tipped his head back to look at Derek. “You’re _cool_.”

Derek sighed and John pinched the bridge of his nose. “We can take pain away. It doesn’t heal anything, but it’ll make him less miserable for a while. In humans, sometimes it lets out endorphins which…”

John nodded. “…Is why he’s acting a little high.”

He remembered that he’d been asked a question. “The vampires are gone now.”

“ _Gone_ gone?”

Derek nodded. Stiles was still sending out a weird mix of emotions.

“So, what happened?”

Scott poked his head in. “Derek. I need to talk to you. It’s about Isaac.”

He could tell that Scott was lying, but stood and went anyway, following him down a long hallway to a waiting room. “Sorry. Just…Those two are going to need a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay. Is everything alright?”

Scott looked at him curiously. “Didn’t you wonder how Stiles knew all that about the crypts in the cemetery?”

Derek frowned. “I figured that you two were the stupid kind of kids who would go exploring graveyards looking for zombies, or whatever. The same stupid kind of kids who’d go through a dark forest looking for a body.”

He half smiled. “Well, you aren’t wrong.”

There was a silence. “He’s going to have to tell his dad where we were. And it’ll be weird because that’s where his mom was buried.”

“Oh.” That explained the mix of emotions.

“And the last time they went to her grave was at the funeral.”

Derek felt cold. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I think…It was just too hard? We’d ride our bikes out, and Stiles would _want_ to go, but we’d just sort of go through and completely avoid that area. I never bugged him about it.”

“He never mentioned…”

Scott shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t. He never talks about his mom.”

He gave Derek a weird look over. “Maybe you should ask.”

Derek was about to protest, but Scott interrupted. “Not now. Give it a while. I think he’d tell you.”

He searched for something to say. “You have to tell me something about Isaac. They’ll both think something was up if I go back with nothing.”

“Uhm. He’s fine?”

Derek rolled his eyes. Scott could be so insightful and kind, and then turn into a complete idiot in the blink of an eye.

xXxX

The school year finished, and of course, there _needed_ to be a party. Derek had managed, through a lot of glowering and threatening, to convince them to not, under any circumstance, have said party at his loft.

The night was quiet. It had been quiet a lot. The others had been studying for their exams, and they had been doing that elsewhere, because Derek’s loft had too many distractions, apparently. Not that he was complaining.

He did miss Stiles. He actually hadn’t seen him in almost a week, just conversing through texts. Derek had driven him home in his Jeep from the hospital, and carried his stuff in for him. He’d badly bruised three ribs, and put a thin crack in a fourth, so he’d be in pain for a while. Stiles was still sending out sad-guilt waves, so he’d asked him if he wanted him to stay. Stiles had said no, and Derek went back home, and hadn’t seen him since.

It was starting to eat at him, but he knew that tonight was the big party at Lydia’s house, and he wasn’t going to bother Stiles when he was supposed to be celebrating. So, it was a pleasant surprise when he heard and smelled Stiles coming up.

He beat him to the door and opened it before Stiles could. Stiles was happy now, radiating contentment, and…relief?

Neither spoke for a second before Derek realized he was blocking the door and stepped to the side. “Hey.”

Stiles still carried a ratty backpack and he had the leather satchel bag that Derek had learned was specifically for ‘Druidy stuff’.

He put both bags down next the couch, wincing slightly. “Hi.”

Derek reached and took Stiles’ hand, pulling the pain out. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. “Oh, thank God.”

He chuckled, then stopped. “The others haven’t been doing this for you?”

Stiles shook his head. “I never asked. For some reason, it’s weird when it isn’t you, now.”

After he was done, Derek kept ahold of Stiles’ hand. “Isn’t the party tonight?”

Stiles opened his eyes and smiled. “You know I don’t like parties.”

He started moving towards the couch, and Derek followed. “And I haven’t been able to see you because of school, so…”

Stiles scooted closer, and kissed him. It was hot and opened mouthed, Stiles sighing into his mouth. Derek reached out, only just remembering about his side, and running his hand up and down Stiles’ thigh.

Still, Stiles pulled abruptly away, out of breath, and in pain. Derek’s hand was still high up on his leg, and the drain started almost on its own.

He leaned back into the couch. “I’m sorry.”

Derek moved them around so that he was sitting on Stiles’ good side, and shifted so they were right next to each other, Derek’s arm around his shoulders pulling Stiles against his chest, his head automatically tilting so that his head was under Derek’s chin, and he could breathe in the scent from his hair. Saffron, old paper, and lemon verbena. Stiles took his free hand and tangled their fingers together, rubbing circles on the back of Derek’s hand with his thumb.

“What are you sorry about?”

“Can we…just do this? It hurts when I get out of breath, and you…No, stop that statement right in its tracks. The track is over. It’s about to go over the Grand Canyon and never come back.”

Derek laughed and kissed the top of his head. “I take your breath away?”

“Shut up.”

Derek thought about teasing him some more. “No, just doing this is more than okay with me.”

Stiles turned a little to look at him. “T.V.?”

“Sure.”

Stiles grabbed the remote. Derek didn’t pay much attention to what he’d picked, too busy inhaling Stiles’ scent, until he felt a wave of amusement. Looking up, he saw why.

“Buffy? Are you serious?”

Stiles laughed the best he could without hurting. “It’s the musical episode, that’s the best one. I never thought about it, but the girl who plays Tara looks just like Cora.”

After that episode, then another, Derek was starting to feel sleepy. Stiles must have been able to tell, because he gently poked at him. “Hey. Can I stay over?”

Derek made himself focus. “Anytime you want.”

The smile he got was wide and bright. He’d never get tired of that. Stiles had brought everything for an overnight stay in the backpack, and they went upstairs and got in his bed.

Stiles had trouble getting comfortable for a minute, but finally settled on his good side and Derek curled up behind him, one arm under his neck and the other on his hip.

Stiles breathed out. “There was something I needed to tell you.”

He sounded nervous, and Derek fought back a second of panic. “No, nothing bad, calm down, dude.”

Derek sighed. “What is it?”

“On Thursday, Alan and Marin are doing my final Trial.”

He understood now why he was nervous. “Oh, hey, you’ll do great.”

Stiles made a humming noise. “If I don’t it’s no big deal, I just have to try again. But…I’d really like to do it right the first time. It took them both three tries to pass.”

He could feel Stiles fidget. “So, Alan said that Scott should be there, since he’s the Alpha, and it’s his pack I’ll be the Emissary to. He said it’d be okay if you were there, too.”

He was quiet. “I mean, if you want to. You don’t have to be there. I just thought, maybe…” He squeaked quietly as he was cut off.

Derek kissed the back of his neck, breathing in his scent again, and sucking gently. It was enough to make him stop talking for a minute. He had a good sized hickey before Stiles poked at his shoulder.

“Quit that. And what’s with the smelling thing? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Derek thought about it. Stiles was happy. Should he bring up the Nogitsune? He knew Stiles would push until he got an answer.

“Everyone smells differently, but you have to focus to separate person from person in a crowd. When you’re close to a person, or around them a lot, then you get tuned in to their scent. When you were…under the influence of the Nogitsune, the void kind of took away your _specific_ scent. It’s coming back, so I’m enjoying it.”

Stiles had gone still. “I…think that’s…weird?”

Derek sighed. “It’s unique, yes. It just took a while for your body to readjust, and the chemicals to go back to giving off your normal scent. Pheromones, I told you about that.”

“So, was it bad?”

“No. Just weird. It was almost unnoticeable, until you started smelling like normal again. That’s when I realized that something had been off.”

He could almost feel Stiles frowning. “Why didn’t Scott say anything?”

“He probably didn’t notice. He’s still learning. And people smell differently to different wolves. What he thinks you smell like and what I think you smell like probably aren’t anything close to the same thing.”

Derek started rubbing Stiles’ hip. “And the closer we get, the more I can smell off of you.”

“What, like emotions?”

Derek nodded and kissed the back of his neck again. “Right there? You just sparked arousal.”

Stiles groaned into one of his hands. “I hate you.”

“And I can still hear when you’re lying. If you aren’t focusing on keeping your heartbeat level, anyway.”

Stiles was quiet again for a long few minutes. “So…Will you come to the thing on Thursday?”

Derek leaned up so he could see his face, making sure to not put any pressure on his ribs. This was something important.

Stiles must have been able to read something from him. “I’m your anchor, right? Well, humans need anchors, too, sometimes. And it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise if, after all this hoopblah…”

“Hoopblah?” Derek interrupted.

“Shut up. After _everything_ , that you would be my anchor, too. So, maybe I’d really like you to be there. Because Scott is awesome, and I love him, because he’s my brother. But you…”

He moved a little and put his hand on the side of Derek’s face. “ _You_ are _not_ my brother.”

Derek took a minute to wrap his brain around Stiles’ tangents, because they got confusing sometimes.

“I’ll be there.”

He smiled at him, breathing out a sigh of relief, that made him twinge. Derek quickly took away the pain, small as it may have been. “Thank you.”

Derek settled back down, nosing into the back of Stiles’ neck and thought he was almost asleep.

“What do I smell like? If that’s not too personal. But, well, it’s _my_ smell, so…”

Derek sighed, and watched goosebumps pop up across his skin. “You smell like someone who wants to go to sleep.”

Stiles made a mumbling noise, and Derek huffed. “You smell like old books, and lemon verbena, and saffron. Happy?”

“The lemon verbena is my shampoo,” he eventually offered. “It’s the same kind my mom used to use, so it reminds me of her.”

Derek started rubbing circles into Stiles’ hip again. “My mother used vanilla.”

After that, they went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	4. Coins and Confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Individual warnings: Language, panic attacks, riddles, herbs, and jack assery. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

The next morning, Derek woke up, and Stiles was already back downstairs. He was at the table, looking through a few thick notebooks, stuffed with clips, post-its, and print-outs, jotting down new notes in the sides in different colored inks, and highlighting blocks of old notes.

“What are you doing?”

Stiles didn’t jump. “I have no idea what they’re gonna test me on, so I’m just rereading over everything. These seven notebooks are the culmination of everything Druidy and wolfy and etcetera I’ve learned about over the last couple of years. I’m gonna be prepared.”

He looked up at Derek and smiled. “Good morning. I made coffee if you want any.”

Derek nodded and started towards the kitchen, then he stopped. “I don’t have a coffee machine.”

Stiles waved him off. “Lydia brought one over a couple of weeks ago. We wondered when you’d notice.”

Derek walked over to it, hazelnut wafting up towards him, nice and hot. Stiles’ phone beeped, and he picked it up, frowned, and tapped some kind of reply.

“The party was a success. I think Danny is seriously hung over.”

The phone beeped again. “Possibly still drunk. Hell, how is that comfortable for _anyone_?”

Stiles showed no signs of moving from the table, so Derek went through what he’d normally be doing. Showered, took his clothes to the laundry closet, checked his e-mail for any messages from Cora. Apparently, she’d met another young werewolf named Alejandro, and he was ‘foxy as hell’. He hadn’t told her about Stiles yet, so he typed out a quick message about them, reminding her to stay safe, and to let him know if he needed to send Peter down to help her kill anyone or hide a body.

When he came downstairs, Stiles was trying not to laugh too hard at his phone. “Dude, I just got a really bizarre e-mail from your sister.”

Oh, hell. “You stayed in touch with Cora?”

Stiles nodded, looking way too smug with himself. “Peter gave me her address. She says if I pull any kind of shit there’s no place in heaven or on earth that I can hide from her.”

He groaned and covered his face. He knew Peter talking him into getting an e-mail account was a bad idea. Not leaving Peter stranded in South America when he’d had the chance had been a bad idea, too.

Derek needed more coffee.

Stiles’ phone started ringing. “Hello?”

He was able to pick up the voice on the other end. It was Scott. “Hey, man. You still at Derek’s?”

“Yep.”

“Cool. Me and Isaac are coming over there in a few minutes.”

Derek huffed and sank back against the refrigerator, shaking his head. Stiles looked over at him. “Actually, Scotty, that might be a not good idea.”

“Huh? Why not?”

Stiles flailed a little, trying to find a reasonable excuse. “Uh. We have plans.”

“Plans?”

“You know. _Plans_.” Stiles tried to make the last word sound significant.

“No, I don’t…”

Isaac interrupted over the other line, sounding distant. “He means ‘sex’.”

“Eww.”

Stiles was hitting himself on the forehead with the blue pen he’d been writing with. “ _No_. We just want some time. You know, alone.”

“For sex?”

Stiles and Scott both said “Shut up, Isaac!”, at the same time.

“Just…tell the others to not come over today, okay?”

Scott sighed. “Yeah, sure. No problem. Uh. Have fun, I guess?”

“Thanks, I’ll see you guys later.” He quickly ended the call before Scott or Isaac could say anything else.

Stiles turned and smiled at Derek. “There we go. Problem solved.”

Derek was still leaning against the refrigerator, and as he looked at Stiles, he felt that same familiar, almost too warm warmth spread through his chest. He searched through his memories for something to say, then it came to him.

“I’m kind of loving you right now.”

Stiles’ smile faltered for a second, and Derek heard a huge jump in his heartbeat, then he just smiled even brighter, radiating contentment all over the place. “I am _totally_ kind of loving you, too.”

He stood up and Derek walked over to him. He remembered how pained Stiles had been the night before, so reached out and put his hand on the side of his face, and Stiles’ eyes fluttered shut. God, he was beautiful.

“I’m gonna try something, okay?”

He nodded, and Derek brought up his other hand. “Keep your eyes closed.”

Derek slid his hands further back, into Stiles hair, and kissed him. Gently, at first, then he licked along his bottom lip, and the kiss turned a little messier. As soon as Derek sensed that Stiles was feeling any discomfort in his side, he started leeching pain away. They were able to make out that way for several minutes before Stiles swayed back, and Derek had to catch him by his arm.

“Whoa. What did you just do? That was, like, _magical_.”

He snorted. “I started taking the pain away before it started so we could do that. Your brain just overloaded with endorphins, that’s all. No magic.”

Stiles finally blinked open his eyes, and they were so _clear_ , clearer than Derek had seen them in months. “I’m the magic expert here.”

They leaned closer together, Derek rubbing his nose against Stiles’. “Agreed.”

He let out a shaky breath. “I think I want to sit down now.”

Stiles swayed again and Derek helped him back over to the chair. “The ‘magic’ is wearing off, huh?”

He swatted at Derek. “Shut up.”

XXxx

Derek was sitting at his table, going over the bank accounts with Peter Wednesday morning when he got a text from Lydia. He was almost relieved; anything for a distraction from money talk, but he frowned when he read it.

‘ _Stiles’ house. Come now_ ’

It was followed by a quick, ‘ _and bring Peter_ ’.

Peter looked over his shoulder. “Looks important. Shall we?”

Scott, Lydia, Jackson, and Isaac were all there when Derek pulled up, and Lydia came running out to meet them. “I don’t know what’s going on. Jackson said something about the Darach, I didn’t hear what it was, and Stiles is…”

Derek pushed past her. He could smell it in the air, even from out here. Stiles was beyond angry; he was _livid_ , and he wanted to hurt someone. The others were all in the backyard. Scott’s eyes were glowing red; he’d actually gotten to the point of trying to subdue Stiles into calming down, but it obviously wasn’t doing any good. Jackson was on the ground, and he looked paralyzed. Isaac had backed up to the fence, curled up, trying to not look like a threat and whimpering in fear.

He felt Peter come up behind him as Lydia darted back to Jackson’s side. His breath caught. “Oh, shit.”

Stiles was standing in the middle of a circle of mountain ash, clearly in a rage. He and Scott were screaming at each other.

“No, I’m not letting you near him. Now calm the fuck down!”

“ _You_ don’t control me! And if you were a _real_ Alpha, you wouldn’t let something like that go!”

Scott looked like he might start crying. “I’m not going to let it go, Stiles. Jackson is in for a serious ass kicking as soon as he’s…not all frozen, or whatever you did. But he doesn’t deserve to die for being a jerk, and I’m not letting you turn into a murderer!”

“ _I already am!_ ” Stiles all but screeched.

Scott turned to Derek. “Help,” he whispered, sounding broken.

Derek took a few careful steps closer, Stiles not really seeing him. “Stiles?”

He focused on him quickly, and Derek had to force himself not to jump back.

“Go away.”

Derek turned a little towards Scott. “What did Jackson say?”

He let out a shaky breath. “He was asking about Druid stuff, since there’s the trial tomorrow. And Lydia filled Jackson in on Darachs, and he said something about how Stiles having all that power was dangerous, since he was already evil. The next thing we knew, Jackson was out, he threw Isaac into that tree, and now he won’t let anyone near, and no one can talk him down.”

Derek growled in Jackson’s direction, and Lydia shielded him, shooting him daggers with her eyes.

Peter had come up to the circle. Stiles was pacing around, pulling at his hair, anxiety and anger and fear rolling off of him. He crouched down, so Stiles had to look at him.

“Stiles.”

“You can go away, too. You like to kill Darachs, don’t you?”

Everyone froze, confused, but Peter smiled. “Knew about that, did you? You always were the clever one.”

Stiles kept pacing. “Bite me.”

Derek and Scott both almost growled. “ _That_ was a one-time offer.”

Wait, what?

“Do you want me to kill him?”

Stiles froze this time, staring down at Peter, who just looked curious. “I could do it. He set me on fire, remember? I kind of got to kill him, but he came back. That happens a lot around here. But I can make it permanent, this time. Scott can try to stop me, but really, you know how tricky I am.”

Everyone was staring between the two of them. “Or you could do it. Break the circle, Stiles. I’ll make sure no one stops you. Go on. He spews poison all the time. And he took Lydia away from you again. Do it!”

They continued staring at each other, before Peter finally scoffed and stood up. “You’re no murderer, Stiles, and you’re no Darach. If you were either, you’d already have killed him, just because you could. Now, quit throwing this little hissy fit. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

After a few more nervous seconds, Stiles finally bent down and brushed his hands, scattering the ash circle. He glanced at Scott. “It’ll be worn off in another hour or so. Get him out of here.”

Scott slowly moved around him, and he and Isaac carried Jackson away, Lydia following and looking back once at Stiles, a dozen different emotions flitting in her eyes.

Stiles sank down on the grass, shaking and looking sick. “They’re scared of me again,” he whispered.

Peter whistled. “They’d be incredibly stupid not to be.”

Derek glared at him, and Peter shrugged. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

He caught the keys when Derek threw them to him, and walked away.

Stiles had brought his knees up to his chest, and was crying softly. Derek sat next to him, and was going to touch him on the shoulder, but Stiles flinched away. “Why are you still here?”

Derek sighed. “I think we covered this the other day.”

Stiles lifted his head, and Derek was able to get his real first look at his face. He hadn’t been sleeping and looked so tired, it was heartbreaking. “You need to leave.”

He frowned. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Stiles tried to find some energy from somewhere and use it to look insistent, but he failed. “I need you to leave.”

“What you need is me, here. I’m your anchor, remember? You need to calm down, maybe sleep, eat something.”

This time Stiles did manage to give him a hard look. “I want to be alone. Anchor, boyfriend, concerned pack member, whatever you want to be right now, doesn’t matter.”

Derek touched him on the shoulder again, and Stiles didn’t flinch away this time. “You shouldn’t be alone. You’re still not…”

He should have known that was the wrong thing to say, because he felt a surge of power, and Derek found himself several feet away. Stiles was staring at his hands. He had thrown him, using the same force that Jennifer had used to fight him before. Stiles was obviously thinking about that. “Oh, _God_ …”

“You’re nothing like her. Either of them.”

Derek got up. “Do you remember what you said? About this territory and the Nemeton choosing you? Why would it… _she_ do that, if she thought you were in anyway evil?”

Stiles slumped in closer on himself, shaking. “Leave me alone, Derek. Please?”

He finally nodded, but it made him sick to his stomach to do it. “Fine. Come find me later. If you want to.”

XXxx

Stiles didn’t show up at his apartment until early the next evening, a few hours away from his trial. He knocked on the door instead of just letting himself in. He was still pale, but he looked like he’d slept, and he looked completely humiliated.

“Can I come in?”

He was vibrating with nerves, and Derek could tell that he honestly thought he might not let him in. “You know you can come in anytime you want.”

The ‘still?’ was etched into his face, plain as day. Derek grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. It took a few seconds, but Stiles finally wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist. He sighed against his neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a few minutes.

Derek pulled back and kissed him firmly. “Nothing to be sorry about,” he whispered back against Stiles’ lips.

After another minute, Stiles pulled away. “Marin said it’s common. For someone still more or less new to all this power to kind of…have a supernatural episode. Especially if said someone is going through something stressful, or is recovering from something stressful. So, it was kind of bound to happen.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “She and Alan were surprised, because I have ‘a strong support network’. They didn’t think it would happen to me. Jackson just hit a raw nerve at the wrong time, and…”

Stiles made an explosion noise and motion with his hands. “He’s okay, though?”

He nodded, looking sheepish. “Yeah. It was…Kind of mean of me. He’s always been cold-blooded, so I…sort of froze him. It couldn’t be permanent, and he was healing the whole time, so he wasn’t in any danger. He was just a…Jackson-sicle for about half an hour.”

Derek couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Shut up, it wasn’t funny.”

“Sorry.”

Stiles looked down at the floor. “Last night, I went to the Nemeton.”

“What happened?”

He was sending out an emotion that Derek couldn’t place. Guilt?

“You were right. She made it _abundantly_ clear that she picked me for good reason. And should I ever question her judgment again, she would take it out of my hide.”

Stiles walked over to the couch and sat down. “And she told me I needed to apologize to everyone. So that’s what I’ve been doing.”

Derek felt pain coming from him. “They’re still a little scared, but it wasn’t like…earlier. Jackson and Lydia were both really angry. Scott turned into this weird mother hen and tried to make me hot chocolate so I’d feel better. I did feel better. After the apologizing, I mean. The hot chocolate was nasty, and Scotty isn’t allowed near the stove ever again.”

He scrunched up his face. “She made me go and _thank_ Peter, and that was beyond awkward.”

That reminded Derek of something. “When did he offer to bite you?”

Stiles looked over at him. “The night he died. He’d bitten Lydia, and had me track Scott’s phone to find you. He offered, and I said no. Obviously.”

Derek sat next to him. “Did you want it?”

Stiles thought about it. “Yeah. For a minute. But I think I knew, even then, that there was something else I was supposed to do. It worked out in the end.”

He reached up, and put his hand on Derek’s cheek, leaning forward and rubbing their noses against each other, before kissing him gently. “I got no regrets. You?”

Derek huffed and turned his head, kissing Stiles’ palm. “Not about this, no.”

Stiles leaned back. “Are you still coming tonight?”

“Of course.”

He stood up, grabbing Stiles’ hand. “Come on.”

Stiles let himself be dragged up the tornado staircase, and Derek only let go of his hand when he stopped to kick off his shoes and laid down on top of his covers. “We don’t have to do anything, but it’d probably be good if you relaxed for a while before you have to go.”

“There are three whole notebooks I didn’t get to go through,” Stiles sounded very annoyed, but was positioning himself so that they were face-to-face, and Derek reached out to get closer to him. He put one arm under Stiles’ neck, and around his shoulders, and put his other hand on Stiles’ upper thigh when he threw it over Derek’s hip. They were close enough that their noses were just touching.

It was quiet, and warm, and Derek could easily pretend that the whole world was just the two of them, at least for the next couple of hours.

“You’re going to be fine.”

Stiles let his eyes fall close. “I hope so.”

Derek rubbed gentle circles on his leg. “I still don’t get why it’s so important that you pass it on this first try.”

He frowned and sighed. “This is just something I need to do. If I can be good, _really_ good at this, then maybe I can put things right again.”

“What are you talking about?”

Stiles blinked his eyes open. “Marin talks a lot about balance. So, if I can do this right, then maybe I can keep a bunch of really bad things from happening. And maybe it can start making up for some of the bad things that have already happened. That I made happen.”

Derek didn’t bother reminding him that whatever happened while the Nogitsune was in control, or even after, wasn’t his fault. That would have been pointless. The same way it didn’t matter if anyone told him that his family being murdered wasn’t Derek’s fault.

“It’s about redemption.”

He nodded. “I guess so. Yeah, that’s a good way to put it.”

“You’ve got a powerful motivator, then. I know you’ll do fine.”

Stiles smiled slightly, eyes falling shut again. “Thank you.”

“What happens afterwards?”

He felt Stiles sort of shrug. “Then there’s some kind of secret ritual. They wouldn’t tell me much. I’ll go back with them to the Animal Clinic, and am officially ‘marked’ as a Druid out of apprenticeship. Then I’ll be the pack’s Emissary. Traditionally the Emissary isn’t actually in the pack, just kind of acts on the sidelines.”

Derek gently poked him on the leg. “And since when have you or Scott done anything traditionally?”

He smiled again. “Exactly.”

“What did you mean by ‘marked’?”

Stiles huffed. “They wouldn’t tell me. The whole Druid society is a little Fight Club. I don’t even know what’s going to happen tonight.”

Derek edged up and down Stiles’ nose with his own, and he breathed out quietly. “Well, knowing them…You’ll probably just have to tell some almost useless fables and list some random historical quotations.”

He laughed gently. “That’d be awesome.”

His eyes were still closed, and he tried to hold back a yawn. “Think I’ll take a nap now. Promise you’ll wake me up in time?”

Derek kissed him on the forehead. “I promise.”

xxXX

Stiles left to go home and finish getting ready, and Derek waited another half hour before driving to the school, where they were having the trial. Deaton, Ms. Morrell and Scott were already there, at the lacrosse field.

Scott looked honestly surprised to see him. “Dude, what are you doing here?”

It was Deaton who answered, leaning over a medium sized cardboard box. “Stiles cleared it with me, Scott. Derek is more than welcome here. How are you?”

Deaton held his hand out to shake. “I’m fine, thanks.”

He was a little…disappointed. The way Stiles talked about how secretive everything was, he’d expected Deaton and Marin to be in long robes, with black taper candles and chanting. But they were both dressed and acted like normal.

Stiles was a bad influence.

Scott was nervously pacing. “Are you sure it’s fine to do this?”

Marin straightened up from unfolding a plastic card table, and sighed impatiently. “For the sixth time since we’ve been here… _Yes_ , Scott. It’s fine.”

“But he had, like, a…magical panic attack two days ago! We should wait, right?”

He looked at Derek. He turned to Marin who nodded. “Stiles is fine. I was just with him. Yeah, he got shaken up the other day. Have someone tell you you’re evil, knowing it’s a weak spot, and see if you don’t lash out.”

Scott slowed down. “And he told me that he’d gone to all of you and apologized. He feels like he can do this, these two think he can do this.”

He finally stopped, and looked defeated. “Okay. Yeah, okay. I just get worried. He’s my best friend, and I’m not going to lose him.”

Derek hit him on the shoulder. “Hey. Stiles has a lot of people looking out for him. He’s not going anywhere.”

Deaton looked to Marin. “We should check the wards.”

They left, and Scott suddenly grabbed his arm. “Was Stiles right? Am I a bad Alpha?”

He shook Scott off. “Has anyone left your pack?”

“What? No.”

“Do the members of your pack follow your orders?”

“Uh. Mostly? Kinda.”

“Have you, by your own actions, gotten anyone from your pack killed?”

Scott stiffened next to him, but Derek knew that he was thinking rationally about the question, about what was and wasn’t his fault.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Well, you’re doing better than me, at least.”

Scott finally smiled. “Thanks!”

He perked up even more. “Hey, Stiles is here.”

A couple of minutes later, Stiles wandered into the lighted area, looking around like he almost expected a booby trap. Scott ran up and tackle-hugged him, Stiles letting out an ‘oomph’ and almost fell down.

“Dude, you just saw me this morning.”

Scott hummed and let him go. “You smell like Derek.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “That’s creepy when you guys do that. Stop smelling me.”

He walked up to Derek and gave him a quick hug. “Hey.”

Derek fiddled with what he had in his pocket, then pulled it out. “Here. This is for you. For good luck.”

Stiles held his hand out. “What is it?”

Derek lowered it into his palm. “A Chinese coin, from the early 1900s. My dad collected coins, and this is the only one I was able to find. You know, at the house.”

It was blackened bad enough that he could barely recognize any characters on it, but he knew it was a coin. They had holes in the centers, so he’d looped a long piece of twine through it.

Stiles easily put it around his neck and gave Derek another hug, holding on tighter. “Thank you. I know it means a lot.”

Deaton and Marin came back, and Stiles pulled away, suddenly nothing but nerves. They just smiled at him, and Deaton clapped his hands.

“Are we ready to begin?”

XxxX

The two Druids stood on one side of the card table, and Stiles stood on the other. Derek and Scott were off to the side, close enough to observe, but not close enough to be distractions.

Deaton was leading the ritual. “Tonight, we are meeting to perform a Final Trial that will mark the passage of Apprentice Stiles Stilinski to the full status of Druid. Confirming with the ancient tradition, this Trial will consist of three parts. The first part will be designed by myself and my sister. The second part has been designed by me, and the third by my sister.”

Well, that made sense. Deaton’s would probably be something with herbs, since that was his specialty, and Marin’s would have some kind of psychological element to it.

“Are you ready for the first test?”

Stiles jerked a little, nerves clearly getting to him, but he nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

“This will test your ability to focus on the five elements; fire, wind, water, earth, and the animal spirit. You will have two tasks with each. One from me…”

Marin spoke now. “And the second from me.”

Stiles nodded his understanding.

Deaton pulled a white candle out of the box next him, and put it on the table. “Light the candle.”

Derek could feel relief wash off of Stiles. He’d been doing this for weeks.

He hadn’t noticed it before now, but when Stiles used one of the elements, there was a scent. The candle flickered to life, and Derek could smell toasted marshmallows. Marin reached into her box and pulled out two purple candles.

“Without extinguishing the first candle, light these two with the fire from the first.”

Stiles frowned, but Derek could tell he wasn’t exactly nervous. He liked a challenge.

A small flicker from the white candle floated slowly across to the first candle and then the second. Scott and Derek high-fived each other, as quietly as they could.

Deaton nodded. “First test passed.”

The candles went out, seemingly on their own, but Deaton didn’t get anything out of the box. “Using wind, lift yourself up.”

He felt Scott still next to him. “He can do that?”

He was quiet enough, only Derek could hear it. “We’ll see in a second.”

There was the scent of lilies on a breeze, and Derek could feel currents of air moving around them, and Stiles, very slowly, started floating. The toes of his shoes were an inch above the ground when he abruptly let go of it, and just managed to not fall over. He let out a slightly hysterical giggle. “Oops.”

Marin put a thick book on the table. “Without having to go back, turn to page three hundred and ninety four.”

She and Stiles smiled at each other. It must have been a joke. The task was simple, and he did it quickly.

Deaton took out a plain, mint green kitchen sponge and poured a bottle of water over it, then set it on the table. “Take all the moisture from the sponge.”

This time, it smelled like the first rain in spring. The sponge was steaming, and in a couple of minutes it was completely dry again. Marin set a clear plastic cup with a blue line drawn on less than halfway up.

“Fill the cup with water.”

Stiles was concentrating, hard, and as Derek felt the air shifting, he realized he was drawing moisture from the air and the ground around them. It took almost ten minutes, and the grass around the table was yellowing by the time the blue line was reached. He could feel Stiles getting tired, and if the shuffling back and forth beside him was an indication, Scott felt it, too.

Only two elements left.

Deaton pulled out a small jar of dirt and put a seed in it. “Make the seed sprout.”

Stiles was able to do it quickly, Derek catching the scent of fresh mulch as he did so.

Marin took the jar. “Now make it flower.”

That took some more work, and by the time there was a single violet, Stiles was starting to sweat a little bit.

“Last test,” Deaton said.

“Summon a bird.”

There was no scent to this one, but Derek was able to feel the small finch hopping over and flitting onto the table. Deaton reached into his box and scattered some small seeds, the finch pecking at them quickly.

Marin held a Mason jar out to Stiles. A firefly was flying around in it.

“Make the firefly luminesce.”

Apparently that was very easy, because a second later it was flickering and Stiles quickly handed it back. Marin opened the jar and it flew out.

Deaton smiled. “The first test has been passed. Are you ready for the second?”

He nodded. “I am.”

They cleared the table, and Marin produced two fold-out chairs, and Stiles sank into one immediately, sighing. Deaton looked sympathetic and put fifteen glass jars out on the table in front of them.

“This is your second task. Each jar holds a different herb or plant in some form. Identify each, and give one use for it.”

Derek felt another wave of relief, this time from both Stiles and Scott.

He reached out for the first one and uncapped it. The scent was powerful, even from over here. “Sandalwood. Um…It focuses mental energy.”

The next one was just as potent. “Sage. Used for healing.”

It went on; Meadowsweet for rituals to honor fallen warriors, olive for peace rituals, mugwort for protective spells, thyme to promote courage, rosemary for love spells.

He uncapped one that gave him some trouble, then he laughed. “Fishfuddle? For sedating fish.”

Deaton smiled. That one had to have been in to mix him up.

Mistletoe, a very deadly poison. Hawthorne for good luck. Gingko to restore memories. Ginseng, a potent stimulant. Wintergreen, also for healing.

There were only two left. He picked up the one furthest from him. “Belladonna. Deadly hallucinogen.”

Deaton nodded. “Last one, Stiles.”

He sighed, nervous again. But he smiled when he open the jar. “Peppermint. Used in repelling spells.”

Deaton smiled at him. “Well done. The second task has been passed.”

Marin came up to the table and Stiles stood up, not tired anymore.

“Are you ready for the final test?”

“Absolutely.”

She smiled. “You will enter the field.”

Marin motioned out over the lacrosse field. “You won’t be able to see or hear us. Once you are in there, you’ll be confronted by an adversary. You will only be able to use your resourcefulness, cleverness, and courage to defeat it.”

Stiles hesitated. “Is it real?”

“It is as real as your mind makes it.”

He huffed, but walked towards the opening in the fence. As he went through, Derek felt the magic kick in, and they all went to the edge to watch. Scott looked at Marin. “What is it?”

She stared ahead. “In order for Stiles to move forward, he has to defeat the demons of his past.”

Scott started yammering on about real answers, but Derek just watched in understanding and fear. It could only mean one thing.

And a minute later, it came out onto the field, too, emerging from shadows under the bleachers. A Stiles dressed in black with all hard edges and sneaky eyes.

The Nogitsune.

xxXX

Derek could feel the terror and sickening panic roll of off Stiles when he saw it, and he froze. “You gotta be kidding me.”

The Nogitsune was circling him. “I’m hurt Stiles. You aren’t happy to see me? But you see me all the time, don’t you? Every single time you look in the mirror.”

Stiles shook his head. “I can’t do anything to you.”

It shrugged. “Nah. But there is a way to beat me. Let’s play a game.”

It moved closer, and Stiles took a step back. “What? Riddles?”

The Nogitsune smiled. “Of course. You like riddles, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer.

“No passes, no take backs, no hints. Whoever can’t answer loses.”

It kept smiling. “You lose, and you have to take this ridiculous test again, knowing how pathetic and weak you are. You win, and I’m gone forever. What will it be?”

Scott fidgeted. “Riddles. For weeks, he kept looking them up and printing off pages. He never would tell me why. Stiles was preparing for this.”

The Nogitsune and Stiles sat on the field across from each other. “This is your game, Stiles. Light goes first.”

Derek could still feel fear and panic, but determination was taking over.

“What kind of tree is carried in your hand?”

The Nogitsune smiled and settled in. “A palm. What building has the most stories?”

“A library.”

Stiles had relaxed some more. “I have lakes with no fish. I have roads with no cars.”

The Nogitsune frowned and thought. “A map. What goes into the water black and comes out red?”

Stiles had to mouth ‘red’ and ‘black’ several times. “Lobster?”

It nodded. “I may be of the eye. In order I am pie. In my center is a star. I keep medics where they are.”

“Oh, you’re tricky, but not as tricky as you think. An apple.”

It paused to think. “A natural state I am sought by all. Go without me and you shall fall.”

“Balance,” Stiles answered almost immediately.

“What is as ancient as the Earth but new every month?”

Derek snorted, and Scott looked at him. “What?”

“You’re a werewolf, Scott. You should know this one.”

The Nogitsune certainly did. “The moon. You’ve been hanging around those wolves for too long.”

It seemed to look over at them. “When you fall in me you’re as happy as can be, but you fall into sadness when you lose me.”

Stiles frowned at it. “Love.”

He looked at the sky for a little while. “Travel a mile and I will change. Travel a million and I will end as I started.”

That took it a long while, eventually leaning back and mouthing words to itself. “An odometer?”

Stiles nodded and it rolled it’s eyes. “Smell me, buy me, and deliver me; I will never change.”

“Scent, cent, sent.”

Stiles grinned. “Those pesky wolves again. I’m number three, but I’m not a number. I’m hot and cold at the same moment, but not at the same time.”

The Nogitsune frowned, clearly getting agitated. Scott had been right; Stiles was prepared for this.

“The Earth,” it eventually said.

“I’m the part of the bird that’s not in the sky, I can swim in the ocean and stay dry.”

Something like a tingle of fear came over from Stiles. “That’s mean. The bird’s shadow.”

The Nogitsune leaned forward. “Better than your own shadow. Even now, you still can’t lose it. Pathetic.”

Stiles shot it a look of revulsion. “What’s brown and sticky?”

This time Scott laughed. “We found that in a joke book when we were kids.”

He looked a little sad, then. “It was the first thing that made him laugh after his mom died.”

The Nogitsune huffed. “Please. A _stick_.”

Stiles laughed, just like Scott had.

“You use a knife to slice my head and weep beside me when I am dead.”

He crinkled his nose. “An onion. That’s gruesome.”

Stiles thought for a minute. “I had a bright start but couldn’t take the pressure. I consume everything, but eat nothing.”

It took the Nogitsune the longest time yet, staring up at the stars, Derek silently hoping that it would give up. But then it glared at the stars.

“A black hole.”

Stiles sighed and rubbed at his hair.

“Something all men have but all men deny. Man created me, but no man can hold me.”

He threw it another mean look. “Fear. I have a name that’s not mine. I come to all in good time. People cry at my sight and lie with me all day and all night.”

The Nogitsune smiled again and it made Derek uneasy. “A gravestone. How morbid, Stiles. But, you don’t see gravestones, do you?”

Derek remembered what Scott had told him about Stiles’ mother’s grave. The Nogitsune was trying to knock Stiles off course.

“I open to close but I close to open. I am surrounded by water but never soaking.”

It was working, because it took Stiles over five minutes to answer. “A drawbridge.”

Stiles frowned and picked at the grass. “I am teary-eyed but never cry. Silver-tongued but never lie. Air-cooled but never dry.”

The Nogitsune stared at him, then thought. Long, long minutes passed, before finally…

“I don’t know,” it gritted out, rage clear on its face. Stiles jumped up, full of nerves, looking around blindly at the fence.

“That’s it, I beat it! Can I come out now?”

Marin rushed off to remove the wards. The Nogitsune stood, too.

“What is it? What is the answer?”

Stiles stared at his own face, twisted, and not his at all. “No. I’m not telling you.”

It snarled and lunged forward, but Stiles raised his hand and knocked it back, the same way he’d done to Derek and Isaac. He grinned down at the Nogitsune, sprawled on the ground and looking a little stunned.

“You have no power over me.”

The air shimmered, and the Nogitsune dissipated.

This time, gone for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know the answer? 
> 
> (No cheating)


	5. Sacrifice and Sorcery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Individual warnings: Fluff, trying too hard, intro to evil guy, sexy times, kinda rough sexy times, ANGST, all the angst, ALL OF IT. 
> 
> :)

Derek didn’t know how long the ceremony or ritual that was taking place at the Animal Clinic was going to last, so after five hours, he gave in and went to bed. Deaton and Marin had whisked Stiles off, and Derek and Scott parted ways not long after, Scott already trying to text Stiles to find out what was going on.

He was just on the edge of sleep when he sensed someone coming, and he tensed up, ready to jump out of the bed, but a second later, he realized it was Stiles, and relaxed. A few minutes later, he heard the door creak open, and Stiles tried to close it back quietly, whispering curse words under his breath. Derek laughed into his pillow; everything he knew about werewolves, and Stiles still forgot how well his hearing was.

“I’m up here,” he called out, and Derek could hear him jump a little in surprise before coming up the steps. He could feel relief coming off of him, mixed with tiredness and the remnants of fear and nervousness.

Stiles stood at the other side of the bed and undressed down to his boxers before climbing in next to him. Derek could still see a hint of bruising left over from the vampire attack, and there was something new; something dark that gently hummed magic if he focused on it, on the inside of his left wrist.

He smiled at Derek as he settled in, and held it up before he even had to ask. “Turns out the ‘marking’ was literal.”

Derek pulled his hand closer. It was the upside down 5 character that meant ‘self’. It was graceful, and tapered at the ends; probably Marin’s work. “I had to pick something meaningful, so I went with that. And it gives me some protection, can you tell?”

He frowned. “I can feel it. Don’t needles freak you out?”

Derek felt him shrug. “Well, yeah. But they didn’t even need to use any needles. It’s _magic_.”

He let go of his hand. “How are you doing?”

Stiles curled in on his side and shrugged. “I feel like I could pass out for a week. Anything creepy has to wait a few days, because I’m gonna sleep through it.”

“You deserve it.”

He moved around, and looked Derek in the eye, putting his hand on the side of Derek’s face and just stared for a minute. “Probably should have said this earlier, like, a bajillion times already, but I love you.”

Derek pulled him down and kissed him, the warm metal of the coin Stiles still had around his neck getting trapped between them. “Love you, too.”

They were both almost asleep when Derek remembered. “Stiles? What was the answer?”

He yawned against Derek’s neck and it tickled. “Answer to what?”

“The last riddle.”

Stiles huffed and shook his head, smugness wafting off of him. “I’m not telling. Figure it out on your own. Or google it.”

XXxx

Scott was standing on his table, giving a speech. One that, if the bored and slightly annoyed look on Isaac’s face was anything to go by, was rehearsed. “It has come to my attention that there are many trust issues within our pack.”

Stiles and Lydia were staring up at him, looking unimpressed. Jackson and Malia weren’t even paying any attention. Derek _ate_ at that table; he didn’t want Scott standing on it.

“So, after looking into these, uhm, issues, I have consulted with a…specialist, and have had some ideas of how to, uhm…”

“Open the gateways…,” Isaac offered after a long pause. Derek was having a bad feeling that the ‘specialist’ had been Marin.

“Yeah, open the gateways to solving our differences to have a more…”

“Cohesive.”

“Thanks! Cohesive pack dynamic.”

Scott gave Isaac a thumbs-up before turning around so his back was to everyone. Stiles groaned. “Oh come on, we don’t have to do _trust falls_!”

Everyone else agreed, and Kira spoke up. “See? You’ve united everyone with a dislike of trust falls! Mission accomplished.”

Scott turned back around. “Mission _not_ accomplished. It’s supposed to be about trust! Now, come on, on the count of three…”

Jackson frowned. “Yeah, but…what if we don’t bother catching you? I mean, it won’t hurt. You’re not going to break anything.”

Scott glared, but jumped off the table, only to drag Danny back up. “Okay. Here. Danny _is_ breakable.”

Danny didn’t look very happy, and tried to squirm away. “Scott, I don’t think…”

He dropped down off the table again. “Guys! We’re supposed to be building strong bonds of fellowship here.”

They all just stared back at him for a minute.

“ _Fine_. I’d like to hear suggestions, though, because no one is leaving until we are all bonded and happy!”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “We could play ‘I’ve Never’? It’s a great way to get to know people.”

Scott got all excited again, and started corralling them all to an open space on the floor and making them sit in a circle, finally dragging Peter out from the shadowy corner where he’d probably thought he could hide and make an escape.

Derek was situated between Stiles and Scott, the former oozing discomfort. Malia sat between Lydia and Kira and looked between them. “I don’t know how to play.”

Lydia patted her on the knee. “It’s easy. I’ll go first to show you.”

She thought for a second. “It has to start with ‘I’ve never’. So, I’ve never had get stitches. Now if that’s not true, you have to raise your hand.”

She, Stiles, Scott, Jackson, Danny, and Isaac raised their hands. “See? Now it can be your turn.”

Malia thought about it for a long few minutes. “I’ve never…been on an airplane.”

Peter, Jackson, Lydia, Danny, and Kira held their hands up, and Malia smiled, relief waving off of her. Derek had to give it to Lydia; she really was a natural leader. She’d taken a sleepover game and turned it into a legitimate bonding exercise, and had helped boost Malia up.

They went around, learning more about each other. Isaac had never been bowling. Scott had stolen his mom’s car and gone joy riding with Stiles when they were thirteen, but that wasn’t a surprise. Lydia was allergic to mushrooms. Jackson had met some celebrity in London that Derek had never heard of. Kira had accidently hit a bird the first time she drove, and spent half an hour crying over it.

It was Jackson’s turn. “I’ve never…chained up a friend.”

Stiles glared at him as he, Derek, Scott, Peter, and Isaac held their hands up. “You weren’t exactly a friend then, dude.”

He snorted. “And I am now?”

Jackson was actually a little insecure asking the question, and Stiles and Lydia both must have sensed it, because Stiles just smiled and winked at him.

“Well, I’d still chain you up, no question.” And like that, the tension between them vanished.

Lydia looked up, thoughtful. “Are we just talking, bad, keep from killing chains, or the good kind?”

“Oh, well, if it’s the good kind…” Danny and Lydia both started raising their hands.

And that more or less marked the end of ‘I’ve Never’ time.

xxXX

A couple of weeks after that, and it was the Anniversary. Last year, Derek had had enough on his plate to just power through and shove it to the back of his head. Peter disappeared off somewhere, and he was able to Skype with Cora. She was just tired and didn’t really want to talk, so the conversation was pretty short. After that, Derek went out to the Preserve, and walked to the old house.

It was crumbling, almost completely collapsed now. It still smelled like fire and pain and fear. Derek just sat in what used to be his front yard, and stared, trying to remember everyone’s faces, and running through what he’d say to them if he ever had the chance to see them again.

He felt someone approaching, and thought it might be Peter, but then he caught the scent of lemon verbena. Derek didn’t bother trying to force himself to look over at Stiles as he sat down next to him, crossing his legs out in front of him.

“How’d you know?” Derek eventually managed to ask.

“The forest. You already know this, but your pack and this territory went kind of hand in hand for generations. And nature recognizes time passing like we do, more or less. The land is in mourning; it has been for a couple of days now.”

He could feel that it was pulling at Stiles. “That, and I’ve had more than a few peeks at the case file from my dad’s office. I memorized the date.”

Derek snorted. “Figures.”

He chanced a glance over. Stiles’ hands were folded in his lap. He’d taken some strands of twine, blue, red, brown, black, and white, and braided them together, slipping the charred coin Derek had given him on it, and wore it as a bracelet on the same wrist where his tattoo was. It was touching, and Derek appreciated it more today than he usually did.

Stiles broke the silence after what felt like ten minutes or so.

“I met your mom once.”

Derek fidgeted. “When? You’ve never said anything.”

“I didn’t realize it was her until recently. I found her picture in an old newspaper article, and it took me a while to remember.”

He cleared his throat. “My mom was dying. She’d been in the hospital for two weeks, and she was actually having a lucid day. You know, where she remembered who I was?”

“Melissa took me to the cafeteria to get milk and oatmeal raison cookies, because those were her favorite and we were going to eat them in her bed and she’d tell me fairy tales.”

He could almost feel Stiles smiling. “She really believed in them. I didn’t understand that until after Scott was turned. Anyway, I got to the room, but there was someone in there. I stayed outside and listened in. I thought it must have been a doctor. Because she was talking about a treatment, but there would be side effects, and it might kill her. Mom turned her down. The lady came out, and saw me. She told me that my mom was brave, and that she admired her.”

Stiles chuckled under his breath. “I offered her a cookie, and she took it, and said she had a daughter my age, and I reminded her of her. So I gave her another one. That was your mom, and I guess she was talking about Cora. You look a lot like her.”

Derek finally worked himself into looking at Stiles. He was sad, but it wasn’t overwhelming, just sort of resigned. “Mom died a week after that. I know now that she could have accepted the bite, and that she’d known all along about this stuff. The ironies.”

He swallowed heavily, and looked back at the house. “Ten people died here. Three of them were children.”

Stiles didn’t say anything. He knew that saying he was sorry wouldn’t matter, and Derek appreciated it.

“My mom’s father, my dad’s mother. My other uncle, his wife and their three kids, all younger than me. And my brother.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

Derek nodded. “Thomas. He and Laura were twins, but for whatever genetic reason, he wasn’t born a werewolf. Neither were two of my cousins.”

He could tell Stiles was buzzing full of questions about ‘wolfy genes’, and it actually made him smile a little. “Laura gave him hell over it, and Mom had to constantly tell her that Tommy wasn’t as unbreakable as she was.”

Derek sighed. “Now it’s just me, Cora, and Peter.”

“If it’s any consolation, it was just you when Peter was a vegetable and Cora was in South America. So, your family has actually grown back. Kinda. And, hey, you’ve got little cousin Malia, too.”

“It does kind of help. And I’ve got the pack. And you.”

He heard Stiles’ heartbeat jump a little. He still loved doing that. “Yeah. You’ve definitely got me.”

xXxX

A week after that, Derek had been enjoying another long few days of peace and mostly quiet. Scott and Kira had been having some kind of bicker or something, so they hadn’t been around. Malia and Isaac were busy with their summer school work that they had to do. Jackson, Lydia, and Danny had just gotten back from a trip to the beach.

Peter and Stiles had been the only two around, Stiles thankfully more than Peter. They’d watched some movies that had led to lots of making out, and he’d stayed over a couple of nights.

It was the morning of the day before the full moon, and for some reason the moon itch was bothering more than it had in a while. Derek went out for a long run, and that helped some. Not a lot, but some.

When he got out of the shower after he’d gotten back, sweaty and feeling a little gross, there was a missed call and a voice message on his phone.

‘ _Uh, hey. It’s me. Do you think you could come by the Animal Clinic after you get this? There may be something up. Just…Call me back, okay?_ ’

Stiles sounded nervous and on edge. Derek hit the green ‘call’ button on his phone, and Stiles answered in the middle of the second ring.

“Derek?”

“I got your message.”

Stiles sighed and it crackled over the speaker. He could hear other voices; definitely Deaton’s, Marin’s, and he thought he could hear Scott, too. There weren’t any screams of terror, so that was good. “Yeah. Can you come here?”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.”

It was quiet for a long second, and Derek knew he was nodding, then realizing Derek couldn’t see him. “Okay, thanks.”

He could hear another voice joining in before Stiles quickly hung up the phone. Derek thought it might have been Peter.

Derek got to the Animal Clinic ten minutes before he’d said he’d be there, and he’d been right. Deaton was frowning at a piece of thick parchment, Marin was arguing with Peter over a map spread over one of the metal examining tables, and Scott and Stiles were pacing in front of were Deaton was sitting, both leaking out nervousness.

Stiles looked up when he came in and smiled for a second before going back to pacing. Deaton stood up. “Oh, good, you’re here.”

Peter and Marin straightened up from their map, which Derek was close enough to see was of a section of the forest far in the Preserve. “What’s going on?”

Deaton held up his paper. “I got a letter today. This is from my and Marin’s old mentor. Neither of us has seen him in years, but he’s able to feel the pull of the Nemeton, and he’s heard rumors about the Hale Pack being put back together.”

Peter spoke up. “His name is Solomon Marlow. I remember meeting him when I was about five years old; he was the Emissary to a visiting pack. He came back a few years later, and tried to align himself with us, but Talia sent him away. I don’t know why.”

Derek shrugged. “How is any of this a bad thing?”

It was Marin who answered. “He was still a Druid when I last met with him, but Solomon always had a fascination with the field of necromancy. We all practice it on some base level, but he was almost obsessed with learning more. After he finished training us, Solomon went traveling for years, all over the world. Gaining knowledge, I think.”

Stiles had stopped pacing and was leaning against the counter, tapping his fingers. He’d almost quit doing that. Deaton sighed and set the letter down. “He wants to meet with us. Solomon will think that by asking to come on to the territory, it’ll show as having good intentions. Marin and I are sure that it’s a trap. To kidnap us, and make a sacrifice to the Nemeton. With that power, there’s no telling what he might do.”

Derek looked around the room. “So what are we all doing?”

Marin tapped the map. “You four are going to meet him. Here, and out in the open.”

Well, that sounded stupid. His face must have given him away, because Marin glared at him. “He’s interested in the Hale family, he says so in the letter. You and Peter being there will be a distraction. Scott, a True Alpha, will interest him, too. And Stiles, I know you don’t believe me, but you are more powerful than he was.”

“ _Was_ ,” Stiles was quick to point out. “As in, he’s probably stronger now. And might have a zombie army.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “There’s no such thing as zombies.”

Everyone in the room looked at him. “I am _not_ a zombie!”

Marin kept on like she’d never been interrupted. “You can keep him out. He won’t expect you to be tied to the land the way you are. There is a good chance he’ll realize he can’t cross the border and leave.”

Because that ever happened. His face gave him away again.

“And _if not_ , then you’ll be there to stop him.”

Scott stopped. “The four of us? Ms. Blake was able to take out three Alphas at once, and she didn’t have…” He waved his hands around.

“Dead stuff.”

Peter motioned to the map. “The rest of the pack will be there, too. Just hiding, here behind the tree line.”

Deaton nodded. “Two should stay back with Marin and I. Probably Danny and Lydia. It would probably be best for him to not know there’s a Banshee around, if he really is a Necromancer.”

“When is this meeting supposed to be?”

Stiles snatched the letter up. “Tomorrow at sundown. I don’t like it. He picked it on the night of a full moon. That can’t be a coincidence.”

Marin opened her mouth, but Deaton shook his head. “No. I agree, and I don’t like this any more than you.”

Peter spoke up again. “But everyone is in danger if this man gets too powerful.”

He looked Stiles and Scott firmly in the eyes. “And you’ll do whatever you can to keep everyone out of danger. Won’t you?”

xxXX

The rest of that day and well into the night was full of planning. They got the rest of the pack in eventually, and they were all given their positions. Deaton, Marin, and Stiles kept coming up with plans A through J, trying to cover anything that might happen. A rogue pack Marlow could have joined forces with, zombies, various spells and protective charms, and what might happen if he forced them into a fight.

Derek didn’t leave the clinic until after eleven, only Scott and Stiles staying behind with Deaton and Marin. Peter walked out with him.

“I wouldn’t worry.”

He snorted. It was Stiles; Derek was always going to worry. “Okay, wrong thing to say. Don’t worry so much. Is that better?”

Peter was just so _relaxed_. “How does all _this_ not bother you?”

He frowned. “It does. I just have very good faith.”

What was that supposed to mean? Peter rolled his eyes.

“Don’t look insulted. It’s just that if anyone can take care of an evil wizard, it’s those two. I know you know that.”

Derek sighed, but nodded. “Yeah. I know that.”

XXxx

He’d gone back to his loft after that, but didn’t even bother trying to sleep until two that morning. When he woke up, it was to the sounds of someone coming into the loft. He already knew it was Stiles, and didn’t bother moving. From the light that was coming in from the small window in the bedroom, Derek figured it was somewhere between seven and eight in the morning. Stiles was shuffling around his kitchen, turning on the coffee maker, and fishing around the refrigerator. He was humming tunelessly, and Derek wasn’t feeling any great distress coming off of him, so he went back to sleep.

Stiles woke him back up about an hour later, knocking on the door and sticking his head in. “Get up, I made French toast, and I need to manipulate you into doing something with me.”

Derek sat up. “You could always just _ask_.”

He followed Stiles down the stairs. “No, really, this sort of thing needs manipulating.”

Derek waited until he’d already eaten half of the food Stiles had made before he brought it up. “Okay, what am I being tricked in to doing?”

“I’m going to see Gerard Argent.”

He almost choked. “You _what_?”

“And I’d like to not go alone. I’d ask Scott, but I don’t think…”

Derek nodded absently. “No, Argent would just bring up Allison to him. Why do you need to talk to him?”

Stiles sighed and rubbed at the back of his head. It didn’t look like he’d slept much. Possibly not at all. “He may have met Marlow before, and might have more information than Alan and Marin. I already asked Chris, but he didn’t recognize the name.”

He picked at the table. “You don’t have to, I just…”

“No. You shouldn’t go by yourself. I wouldn’t put anything past that man, no matter what his ‘condition’ is,” Derek said as he stood up. “Did you want to leave soon?”

Stiles just looked up at him, regretful for a minute, then back at the table. “Whenever you’re ready. Trust me, I’m in no hurry.”

Derek walked around so he was behind Stiles’ chair and put his hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently. Stiles had been practicing something that Alan had taught him; it took concentration and some energy, but he could hide himself. Not just control his heart rate, but keep his scent and emotions out of reach to werewolves, or any other supernatural creature.

He didn’t like it. It was like Stiles was all…voidy again.

Stiles sighed. “I can feel you judging me back there, you know? I need to do it. Gerard can read people, and God only knows what that Marlow guy can do. Sorry.”

Derek moved his hands so he was rubbing under his jaw. Stiles was relaxing. “Yeah, but you don’t need to do it now. Please.”

Stiles closed his eyes, and Derek was hit with waves; nervousness, sadness, and just a hint of wanting. “Happy?”

He bent down and kissed the top of Stiles’ head, breathing in the scent from his hair. “Very. Thank you.”

Stiles pulled away and turned around in the chair. “I was serious. You don’t have to come with me. I probably shouldn’t have even…oomph.”

Derek leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t pretty; he was feeling a pull from the moon itch, and the wolf part of him was taking more control than usual. He hadn’t realized his fangs and claws had come out until Stiles pulled back.

He tried to pull himself back together. “Oh my God, I’m sorry…”

But Stiles shook his head. “Hey, no. Actually that was kinda…okay, no ‘kinda’, like really, really hot.”

Derek realized he was getting hit with arousal, and rubbed at his head. “Stiles, we shouldn’t do anything. I’m gonna…take a shower and get ready.”

He rushed up the stairs and had made it under the water before Stiles caught up with him. He must have started taking clothes off before he even got to the bedroom, because he hopped in a few seconds after Derek had turned the shower on.

Stiles was smiling at least, and looking more than a little devious. “Hey.”

Derek huffed. “I don’t have a lot of control over the shift right now.”

He shook his head. “You won’t hurt me. We both know that.”

Stiles had moved close enough that they were touching all along their fronts. Derek closed his eyes as Stiles rubbed their hips together. “And I’ve always wanted to do this. The shower sex thing, I mean.”

Derek groaned, and Stiles took a step back. “Okay. Look, if you really don’t want to, I’ll get out. I’m not gonna…”

Derek shut him up again, this time lifting Stiles up, making him wrap his legs around Derek’s waist and pushing him up against the tiled wall. “Okay. Not going anywhere now.”

Stiles was breathless now, and Derek let whatever control he had over the shift go. He was going to have bruises and long red lines down his sides and thighs, but Stiles was not complaining. “Oh, I’m…definitely keeping this in mind. You’re usually…whoa, hey, _way_ too gentle with me.”

Derek growled against his throat, and ground against him harder, faster. The only thought in his head was a repeating _come_ , _come_ , _come_ …

Stiles let his head thumped back against the tiles as he did come, groaning and letting Derek get to more areas against his throat. Derek thrust harder than before, ignoring the vague sense of discomfort coming from his mate.

Mate? That was new.

As Derek felt the orgasm building, he had a feeling like was forgetting something.

It hit him a minute later, as he realized he couldn’t still stand, and definitely couldn’t keep Stiles up. They both fell on to the floor of the tub, and Stiles started giggling.

“Didn’t think that one through did we?”

Derek just grunted, finally managing to shift completely back. “Sorry.”

Stiles pushed so he was sitting up and stretched, Derek getting a look at some of what he had done.

“Oh, no, get that guilty look off your face. That was _awesome_.”

He sat up, too. “You look…”

“Like I’ve been having _awesome_ sex? With an _awesome_ hot guy?”

“Like you fell down a hill and into a briar patch.”

Stiles reached out and pulled Derek’s face closer, kissing him and then rubbing their noses together. “Quit feeling bad for good things. We both needed the distraction, and we’re both not as jittery anymore. Good things, Derek.”

Derek sighed and dropped his head forward, pushing their foreheads together. “Okay.”

He blinked water out of his eyes, only just realizing the shower was still on. “The hot water is going to run out in a minute.”

Stiles brightened up. “I think I can fix that.”

A few minutes later, after a lot of flailing, scrambling, squawking, and more red marks from both very hot and very cold water, he managed to get the temperature right. Derek didn’t say anything out loud, but in his head he was thinking…

How was Stiles supposed to stop a powerful Necromancer, when he could barely work a shower?

XxxX

It was another three hours before they actually got on the road, Stiles driving his Jeep. Nerves were taking over again, and Stiles started putting up whatever wall it was that blocked practically everything.

“Do you have to do that?”

He frowned as he worked out what Derek was talking about. “I don’t want to give anything away that I can help.”

“I don’t like it. It makes you feel like you aren’t there.”

Stiles shrugged. “I hate doing it, but it’s necessary. I’ll stop whenever this is over, I promise. At least until the next big bad thing comes around.”

He turned his radio up some, and the rest of the forty-five minute drive was in silence. The overwhelming nerves stopped seeping over, not because Stiles was calming down, but because he was hiding it away.

They pulled into a parking space, and Stiles suddenly dropped his head against the steering wheel and groaned. Derek touched his knee. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles lifted his arm and pointed to the left. Derek followed and saw it immediately; Peter leaning on his own car, looking smug and annoying.

They got out of the Jeep and Peter came over. “What are you doing here?” Stiles snapped.

Peter huffed. “Same as you. To ask Gerard Argent some questions about our rouge Druid.”

“What did you do?”

He tried to look offended. “Nothing. I was waiting on you, Stiles. I knew you’d be coming.”

Stiles switched emotions on his face around, and Derek couldn’t know for sure what they were. Anger, annoyance, and then defeat. “Okay, fine. But I’m going to be asking the questions. No threats from you, understood?”

Peter smiled. “Whatever you say.”

They had to sign in at the desk, and then they went up to Gerard’s room. He was sitting in his wheelchair, looking out the window, and not surprised to see them in the slightest. He smiled and it made Derek’s hair stand on end.

“Young Mr. Stilinski. And the Hale family. What can I do for you today?”

Stiles edged closer, and sat in the chair in the corner. “Tell me what you know about Solomon Marlow.”

Gerard chuckled, but it turned into a hacking cough, and he covered his mouth, making a face. “First, I need an incentive to tell you anything.”

They faced each other off before Peter walked next to Gerard. “I’ll do it.”

Both men reached out, shaking hands, and Derek saw lines of black rushing up his Uncle’s arm. He pulled away quickly, and Gerard hacked another cough out.

“Solomon Marlow. Why are you asking?”

“You owe me answers, not questions.”

Derek saw Gerard smile again, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“I’ll give you that.” He straightened up in the wheelchair.

“Okay, then. I met Solomon Marlow once, years ago. He was the Emissary to a pack. Not a particularly powerful pack, but one of their betas went on a killing spree in a town nearby. The Alpha and the others refused to give up who did it, all claiming innocent.”

Gerard stopped to hack some more. “Well, they had to go, didn’t they?”

He shrugged. “Marlow was…driven half-mad. See, the Emissaries aren’t supposed to get too close to the packs for this reason. He and one of the betas had fallen in love with each other. So Marlow came seeking revenge against us.”

He’d been smirking between Derek and Stiles, and Derek was starting to wonder just how much the old man knew. “I was going to kill him. Honestly. But he escaped.”

Stiles leaned back and crossed his arms. “People don’t ‘escape’ from you. You let them go.”

Gerard coughed again, maybe hiding another laugh. “As you say. That was the last I saw of him. After that…Just rumors. I know he mentored your Dr. Deaton and Ms. Morrell. Then he traveled. Africa, Australia, China, Russia, the Caribbean. He just came back to the States in the last year, living in Louisiana.”

He looked between the three of them. “He’s coming back to Beacon Hills, isn’t he?”

Stiles didn’t answer for a minute. “It’s possible.”

“He wouldn’t be looking for me, would he?”

He didn’t answer this time, deciding to let the old man make his own assumptions, and Gerard nodded. “I like you, Stiles. So, I’ll give you three pieces of advice.”

He pushed himself so he was straighter in the chair. “First…He’s powerful, and he’s arrogant about it. Before he went mad, others in the Druid community called him ‘Emrys Reborn’. And by all accounts, Marlow believed it himself.”

Derek could see Stiles’ right eye twitch, just slightly. “Secondly…The rumors make him to be a Necromancer. If that’s true, then he will have made arrangements, to cheat his own death.”

He smiled at Peter. “Maybe you two will have something to talk about.”

Peter smiled back, very coolly, both of them trying to out glare the other. “Keep that in mind if you have to face him. And he’ll be clever about it. Marlow won’t just be a few steps ahead. He’s going to let you think you’re both playing chess, while he’s actually playing checkers.”

He went quiet, and Stiles spoke up. “You said three things.”

Gerard held his hand out in answer, and Peter took it again. He clamped down on Peter’s hand, and looked all three of them in the eye. “Run. Go to the other side of the country. Go to another country, if possible. If he’s coming, and he is planning something, then you won’t survive. This man is delusional, powerful, and has very little to lose.”

He let Peter’s hand go, and Stiles stood up. “This actually hurts to say…but thank you. For your advice.”

Derek started for the door, but Gerard coughing harshly with a laugh made him stop. He was smiling at Stiles.

“I said…I like you, Stiles. We elders, we have to find ways of teaching the younger generations how to not make our mistakes.”

He gave Stiles, then Derek, a very meaningful look. “ _Don’t_ make the same mistake as Marlow.”

Stiles’ face was blank, but he nodded, like he understood. He started shooing Derek and Peter out of the room, but Gerard had to get in another last word. “On the off chance that any of you live through this, tell Scott to come visit.”

Stiles shut the door, maybe a little harder than was necessary. He led the way out of the building and back to his Jeep, not bothering to look back or check if Derek and Peter were following.

He got into the vehicle, then held his hand up at Derek. “Ride back with Peter.”

Peter stopped halfway to his own car, and called back. “Peter might have plans, you know.”

“Peter is a creeper, and I don’t trust him if he has ‘plans’.”

He rolled his eyes, and Derek looked back at Stiles. “Just…I have some things I need to do. Alone.”

Stiles didn’t let him answer, he just shut the door and pulled out of the parking lot.

xXXx

Derek really didn’t know what to do for the rest of the afternoon. All the plans were made, nothing needed to be done until they all met up at Scott’s house before leaving for the Preserve. He hoped Stiles would be back over, but he hadn’t heard from him since he’d driven away, and Stiles wasn’t answering his phone.

Two hours before he was supposed to be at Scott’s, Derek drove to Stiles’ house. Something deep inside him was telling him that something was wrong. That might have been the moon itch, but, given the circumstances, he wasn’t taking any chances.

The Sherriff wasn’t home, and Stiles was sitting on the steps going up to the porch, fiddling with his keys when Derek pulled into the driveway. Stiles didn’t look up when he sat next to him, and that weird barrier was up so well that Derek couldn’t sense any reaction from him at all. He didn’t even acknowledge that Derek was there for about five minutes.

“I was going to come see you. There’s an errand I need to run, but I wanted to talk with you first.”

Derek waited, but Stiles had clammed back up. “Okay. What do we need to talk about?”

Stiles just stared out across his yard. The neighbor across the street was mowing her lawn. “I can’t do this, Derek.”

He sounded sad, and finally looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

Derek felt something cold punch him in his chest, but prayed that his instincts weren’t pointing him in the right direction. “Stiles…”

He looked away, back over the yard. “It’s too much. There’s a lot of things I need to think about, and a lot of things I have to deal with. I just can’t. Okay?”

Derek shook his head. “You’re breaking up with me, so no, it’s not okay!”

Stiles flinched a tiny bit. “Believe me…This is killing me to do, but _I_ need to do it.”

“But, this morning…”

Stiles closed his eyes, and Derek thought he might have seen a tear there, but a second later and he was composed again. “Things are different. Like I said I’ve got…”

“Is this about something Gerard said?”

He groaned in annoyance, and stood up. “ _No_. This is about me…needing, space, or whatever. You can let go.”

Derek was confused, but realized he’d reached out and grabbed Stiles’ wrist tightly in his hand. “I don’t want to.”

The moon itch was making him feel muddled. He looked down at the hand he had clamped onto, and counted the fingers. Not a dream, then.

Stiles knelt down in front of him. He concentrated for a second, and whatever force it was that kept him hidden lowered a tiny bit. Derek was hit with regret and sadness, strong enough that it made him want to cry. Hell, he _was_ crying. When had that started?

“I am _so_ sorry. But I need you to trust me on this.”

He tugged. “Derek. You’re hurting me.”

The moon itch was taking over some, because he gripped a little tighter. “You’re hurting me more.”

Stiles grumbled something, low and under his breath. A few seconds later, and Derek felt a sharp snap of electricity run through his arm, and he jerked away from Stiles with a yelp. Then the baser part of him reacted, too, and he snarled at him, fangs barring, and his eyes shifting.

“ _Derek_!”

He jerked back into himself, and blinked at Stiles, who was looking across the street to make sure his neighbor was still busy and rubbing at his wrist. “Stiles, I…”

Stiles held his hand up. “Don’t.”

He looked down. “Here.”

He started pulling at the bracelet he wore, the one with the coin Derek had given him on it. Derek stood up quickly. “No, don’t….Keep that.”

He wasn’t sure why that was so important to him. “Please?”

Stiles hesitated, but dropped his hands. “Okay.”

There was a long, sad silence. “I have to go now. See you later?”

Derek nodded, not wanting to look at him. Stiles sighed, and moved closer, pulling him into a tight hug. He quickly held him back, not knowing if this was the last chance they had to do this.

“It’s gonna be okay, Derek. You still trust me?”

He shuddered, tears still leaking out a little bit. “Yeah. I want to.”

Stiles pulled away, and Derek didn’t want to ever let him go. Before Stiles could move very far, he leaned in and kissed him. It was a little reminiscent of their first kiss; wet, tasting too much of tears, and skin unpleasantly hot. Stiles made a noise in the back of his throat, almost pained, and pulled away.

“I’m going. Bye, Derek.”

And by the time Derek forced himself to open his eyes, Stiles was already in his Jeep, and pulling away.

xxXX

When Derek felt like he was with it enough to drive, he just headed over to Scott’s house. Kira, Lydia, Deaton, and Marin were already there. Scott frowned at him when he came in.

“Dude, what the hell happened?”

He shrugged and just sat in the other room on the sofa. Derek had about five minutes of quiet before Lydia came over and sat next to him, smoothing out her skirt.

“So. What did Stiles do?”

Ugh. It was too soon for this. When he was young, he’d been taught to hide after you’re injured. But he couldn’t hide, not now, and it was _too soon_. Lydia didn’t move.

“Nothing.”

She stared at him. “Stiles is loyal. And he’s remarkably patient for someone with that much hyperactivity. And he’s almost, _almost_ , as smart as I am. Almost. So, whatever dumbass thing he’s done, I’m sure there’s a reason. He’ll know how to fix it.”

He glanced up at her, then back at the floor. “He broke it off.”

Lydia nodded. “I figured. When you came in you looked like someone had just kicked your favorite puppy.”

She abruptly hit him on the back of the head with her hand. “I can tell you this much; whatever he has planned, Stiles will not have included ‘make Derek into a sad emo boy’, because we need everyone at their best. You want to get back with him? Make sure you’re with it enough to live through the night.”

Lydia stood up. “Now. Come help us put the final touches together.”

When he didn’t move, preferring to sulk right where he was, thank you very much, Lydia huffed and yanked him up by the elbow. She was surprisingly strong, and dragged him into the kitchen.

Over the next hour, the rest of the pack trickled in, until the McCall’s dining room was full and absolutely buzzing with nerves. Derek and Peter had agreed earlier that the others didn’t need to know about the visit to Gerard, and weren’t going to tell them about his advice to flee the country.

Stiles was the only one not there yet. Scott turned to Derek, looking nervous. “Uhm. He didn’t say where he was going, did he?”

He shook his head, definitely not wanting to talk about the last time they had spoken. Lydia had made a very good point; he could be sad when this was over. But for now, he could do what he’d always done. Brood and look grouchy.

“He just pulled up,” Kira said, looking out the window.

Scott pulled him inside and dragged him to the map, now with lines drawn on it, and scribbled notes. He scrunched his nose up.

“You smell weird.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t smell at all. And I told you to stop doing that.”

He shook Scott off. “So…One last time?”

Scott gave him a long look, then glanced at Derek and sighed. “Yeah, okay.”

He motioned them all closer. “Me, you, Peter and Derek will be here.”

Scott pointed to a spot in the clearing, a good distance from the boarder, but not too suspiciously close to the tree line. “Kira?”

She tapped to a grouping of trees right on the edge of the boarder. “I’ll be in the trees, ready to jump down if you need me. And the go word is ‘silver’.”

Scott nodded. “Isaac?”

“Me, Jackson, and Malia will be in the underbrush just behind the tree line, here, here, and here.”

Malia spoke up. “And I have this fancy tranquilizer gun. If I need to shoot at this guy, the code word is ‘oak’.”

Chris had given them the gun, and several darts filled with Kanima venom.

“Lydia?”

She rolled her eyes. “Danny and I will be guarding these two at the Animal Clinic. We also have ‘fancy guns’, and a strong disapproval of being left behind like helpless damsels.”

Danny shifted some. “Uh…I don’t feel like a helpless damsel.”

“Shut up, yes you do. We’re very unhappy.”

“No really, I’m fine…”

Jackson, surprisingly, hushed them. “Stop complaining, Lydia. I feel better with you both back here.”

Lydia looked like she was going to rant some more, but Scott broke in. “Okay, great. Now, we still don’t know how we’re getting out there.”

Isaac held his hand up. “Chris lent me his SUV. It’ll be tight but I think we can all fit.”

Jackson sniggered under his breath, but stopped when Lydia and Kira both smacked at him.

“If we take more than one car, and this dude is watching, he might get suspicious.”

Scott nodded, and checked his phone. “Good thinking.”

Stiles pointed at the phone. “We should all keep our phones on us, but everyone go on ahead and put them on silent. It’d really suck if a ring tone gave us all away.”

“Okay. We should go.”

It was a tight fit, but they did all manage to get in. Derek ended up squished between Kira and Peter. Isaac was driving, and Stiles had managed to call shotgun. It was a long ride, deep into the Preserve, and it was good that they’d taken an off-road vehicle.

Isaac found a good spot to park, and they all separated, Derek, Scott, Peter, and Stiles heading straight to the clearing. The others were finding round about ways, all in different directions.

They walked in a very awkward silence. Scott kept looking between him and Stiles, opening his mouth to ask questions, then changing his mind. If Peter had noticed anything off, he wasn’t commenting on it.

Stiles was different than when he’d left Derek in front of his house. He’d managed to practically cut himself away, leaving just a faint heart beat, and the tiniest hint of lemon verbena. His eyes looked sharper, and he was focused, not nervous or twitchy at all.

He very much didn’t like it.

They got to the wide clearing, and Derek could already sense the rest of the pack in their positions. The sun was sinking under the horizon, and the pull of the moon was almost painful now. The others could feel it, too, he could tell. Stiles looked at the three of them, almost concerned, but then turned to the other side, beyond the invisible but tangible boarder.

“He’s here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big show down next chapter! Stay tuned.
> 
> Also, I've forgotten to mention:
> 
> I am on Tumblr! her-imperius-condessy
> 
> Come say hi!


	6. Break-Ups and Bowling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Other stuff kept popping up. 
> 
> Warnings: Language, violence, injury, very brief memory loss, angst, fluff, mentions of underage drinking.
> 
> I think that's it. Enjoy!

The figure that was walking across the clearing wasn’t exactly what Derek was expecting for a user of dark magic. He was short, about the same height as Lydia when she wasn’t wearing heels, kind of pudgy, and his hair was an alarming carroty orange. The only ‘sinister’ looking about this guy was his eyes. They were dark and hooded. He looked a little creepy…Kinda like Peter.

He stopped just shy of the land border, completely blank expression on his face. Stiles had the same expression. It was extremely unsettling.

Marlow looked between the four of them, each in turn. “I was expecting Alan Deaton and Marin Morrell.”

His voice was low and calm, a lot like the way Deaton spoke. Stiles crossed his arms. “They send their regards, but were unable to be here. I’m Stiles…This is Scott, the Alpha of the Beacon Hills Pack. And Derek and Peter Hale.” He motioned to them all.

Marlow didn’t look very impressed. “The Alpha Deucalion made you sound more…well, let’s say mature.”

Scott frowned. “You’ve seen Deucalion?”

Marlow glanced at him. “Obviously.”

He didn’t elaborate. “So. I have come here to ask to enter your territory.”

Stiles shifted a little bit. “Why?”

Marlow smirked. “To visit with old friends, and to pay tribute to the Nemeton.”

“Pay tribute how?”

He was giving Stiles a look, like he wasn’t sure whether or not he should be taken seriously. “A sacrifice is called for. Has Alan taught you nothing?”

He didn’t visibly react, but Derek could have sworn he felt the forest around them bristle in defense. That didn’t usually happen.

“He taught me enough.”

They stood in silence for a long uncomfortable minute. “Will I be welcomed?”

Stiles shrugged. “That depends. What ‘sacrifice’ are you intending to make?”

Marlow grinned. “No one who doesn’t have it coming to them, I promise.”

He shook his head. “Then I’m sorry, but no. It’s not allowed here.”

Marlow’s eyes turned stormy. “’Allowed’?”

He took a few steps forward, but he was thrown back, the same way Derek would be if he tried to step over mountain ash. Marlow pushed himself back up, and the only light into the clearing, the full moon, was getting darker. He, Scott, and Peter looked up; dark grey, thick clouds were rolling across the sky.

Marlow had walked back up, an inch away from the border. “So. This land thinks you belong to it. But even with that, _boy_ , you won’t be able to keep me out.”

He reached into the pocket of the jacket he wore, and pulled out a small crystal ball. It was powerful; it made everyone in the clearing shiver and their hair stand on end.

Whatever it was, Stiles didn’t like it either, and was looking at it warily. “Do you know what this is? I doubt Alan thought it important to teach you about these sort of artifacts.”

“It’s an Orb of Thesulah.”

Marlow nodded. “Very good. And?”

“It summons spirits.”

He man smiled again, and the orb began to glow. After a second, thin silvery wisps started coming out of it, each one seeking out a pack member and circling around them.

Then, the whispers started. Derek was very distantly aware of the others stumbling out into the clearing and Kira falling out of her tree. His vision was going staticy around the edges, and the world was going sideways. Everyone reeked of distress, and he understood why as soon as he recognized the voice in his ear.

It was his brother, Tommy.

“ _Uh, hey. I’m supposed to be, I don’t know, making you feel guilty, or something? To distract you from this asshole. But I’m gonna do you a favor. You listening, little bro?_ ”

He nodded. How Tommy could possibly know he was nodding was beyond him, but he did it anyway. “ _You need to get that thing away from him. And quick. Or your pack is going to die. You don’t want that, do you?_ ”

Derek shook his head, and was able to pull himself back together enough to see what was going on around him. He’d fallen down to his knees; everyone else had, too. Everyone except Stiles, who was forcing himself to stay standing. Marlow was obviously waiting for him to give up, and then he’d be able to force his way past.

How was he supposed to get that thing out of his hand?

Another voice joined Tommy’s. It was Laura.

“ _Look at Malia._ ”

He tried to focus. Malia had dropped the tranquilizer gun, her hands over her ears and tears running down her face. “ _You’re fast, Derek. You can grab it and shoot. This guy can probably stop the dart, but it’ll be all the distraction you need._ ”

Talia’s voice entered his mind, too. “ _You can do it. We know you can. Marlow won’t be expecting it. Move. Now!_ ”

Even long dead, and nothing but a whisper in his head, his mother’s voice still carried the weight and authority of an Alpha. It was enough to clear his head and his vision. Derek more or less fell forward, the gun just in reach.

And he shot.

Marlow was quick, and stopped the dart in mid-air, but Laura had been right. Those few seconds were all it took for him to jump up, snatch the orb from his hand, and get back behind the line.

As soon as Derek took it, the silver wisps darted back inside, and the orb quit glowing. Marlow snarled, and made to grab it back, but was knocked down again by the barrier.

The clouds opened, and in a matter of seconds they were all soaked and the wind was blowing hard enough to make the rain sting. “Give it back!”

Derek held the orb close to his chest and backed up further, instinctively closer to Scott. All the others had shifted already, the fear and anger brought up by whatever the spirts had said making them ready to fight. That had to have been in Marlow’s plan, and Scott must have realized that because he was keeping them all back.

Stiles hadn’t moved, and didn’t even jump when a boom of thunder made the ground shake. “You should probably go now.”

They had to shout above the wind.

“What do you think you can do? I am more powerful, in ways you can’t imagine. I will kill every one of your friends here, and I will save _you_ for last.”

Stiles didn’t even look concerned. “You came here to sacrifice something, to make you stronger! Well guess what! I was ahead of you. I made my own sacrifice to the Nemeton, hours ago.”

Derek hoped for a second that it was a bluff, that Stiles was lying. But then, the rain and wind just cut off, and the moon shone through again. It was clearly Stiles’ doing because Marlow looked even more pissed off.

“See, I had an idea. That there might be something more powerful to sacrifice than someone’s life. And the Nemeton accepted it.”

Something shifted in the air around them all, and Marlow looked honestly a little scared. Stiles blinked, and a silvery-green film covered his eyes. Derek had seen it once before, but the others obviously hadn’t because they all tensed up. When he spoke, his voice echoed.

“You will never be welcomed here, Solomon Marlow. This is your last chance to leave.”

Marlow backed up a few steps, but didn’t go. “You don’t have it in you. To take a life. You won’t kill a man.”

Stiles held his hand up. “I already have.”

Marlow looked confused for a second, then fell to the ground, clutching at his head. After a few seconds, he was shrieking, loud enough to rival Lydia. And then, very abruptly, Solomon Marlow exploded, disappearing into a fine scarlet mist that faded into the air.

For the first time, they could get a scent from the other side of the clearing, and it was the overwhelming smell of blood. Stiles had just dropped backwards, sitting in the wet grass with his legs out in front of him, looking more than a little stunned, eyes back to normal.

The rest of them had spread out, inspecting the area. Just in case. Jackson stopped close to where Marlow had been. “What did you do?”

He wasn’t judging, just curious. Peter had put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

“I boiled water.” His voice was weak and distant, like he couldn’t believe what he’d done.

Derek felt like he should be doing something. But he didn’t know what. Kira was talking with Scott near the farthest tree line, but he couldn’t hear them. That wasn’t right. Was it?

Voices and smells were all jumbled, and he stopped being able to identify smells. He couldn’t smell at all. Or, he didn’t think he could. And the colors were getting darker, all the shadows getting longer.

“Derek?”

The voice was familiar. His name was Isaac. That was right. Isaac was his friend. He used to be his friend. But Derek had hurt him…somehow.

Someone gently nudged him. Not Isaac. The girl, his sister. No, her name was Cora. She wasn’t here. Was she? This was Malia. Malia was…someone. His niece?

“Scott? Something’s wrong!”

There was someone standing in front of him now. Not Scott. Stiles. He knew who Stiles was. Stiles was someone he loved.

“Derek? You need to give me that orb.”

What orb? He didn’t know if he’d asked that out loud or not.

“Just…hold your hand out.”

He could do that. Someone touched his arm, he couldn’t see who because he closed his eyes. There was a jolt, and he pulled his arm back in towards his chest. There were a lot of voices, all talking at once.

“Derek, you need to open your eyes.”

That was his father. No. It was Peter. But Peter had died, hadn’t he? Peter was gone, he was talking to another ghost. But when he opened his eyes, he looked real enough.

“We need to lay him down.”

That was Stiles. Wasn’t it? He didn’t want to forget Stiles. He was important, but Derek couldn’t remember why. His name was Derek, right?

Stiles, he thought was still talking. To Scott. Scott was his brother. No…the Alpha. But what…what _was_ an Alpha?

“Dude, trust me, this will work. It’s completely safe. Okay. Mostly safe. Possibly a little dangerous. But it’s the only way. And Alan agrees. I can do this.”

Scott…he thought his name was Scott, it might have been something else, mumbled something.

A man with pretty brown eyes leaned down next to him, and put his hands on either side of his face. “Derek, I’m really sorry, but this is probably going to hurt.”

There were more hands on his shoulders and knees, then everything went dark, and it did hurt.

Very much.

XXxx

When Derek woke up, he wasn’t in the field anymore. To his immense relief, all his senses were back to normal. The sound of a clock ticking, animals fussing in the distance, the smell of disinfectant and dog food.

The Animal Clinic, then. He forced his eyes open; they felt heavy, and the sun shining through the window was harsher than it usually should have been for a few seconds. Derek thought about sitting up on the camp bed, but he felt too sore to do it.

This must be what a hangover was supposed to feel like.

Doors swung open, and suddenly Scott, Peter, and Deaton were next to him.

“I wouldn’t try and get up just yet,” Deaton said calmly, checking something on his abdomen. Something that hurt. He wanted to flinch away, but still couldn’t move much.

“What happened?” Ah, well, he could still talk.

Deaton straightened up. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I was forgetting things, and everything was getting dark. Then something sharp in my head…and I just woke up.”

He looked around. It was definitely in the afternoon. “How long was I out?”

“That was last night.”

Derek just waited patiently for more answers. It was Peter who finally spoke. “It was that orb. Apparently, Marlow made a fail-safe, in case he died. His soul went into the orb, and would start taking over the first person who touched it.”

“Like a Horcrux,” Scott interrupted.

Peter rolled his eyes. “So…I was possessed?”

Deaton shook his head. “No. For Marlow’s spirit to take over, he would have to first kill the part of you that was magic. The fact that you were born a werewolf and not turned was all that slowed him down.”

“So, how am I still alive?”

Deaton leaned back against the counter. “They couldn’t take the orb from you, so they had to do something to force you to shift. Bringing out that half of you would have been enough to shake Marlow loose. But it was too late.”

Scott rubbed at his head, looking very tired now that Derek was able to concentrate a little better. “We tried _everything_. I guess you were already too out of it. We called the Doc here, and he suggested this…I don’t even know what to call it.”

Derek was feeling stronger, and tried to sit up. Scott and Peter moved to help him. Looking down, he could see why he hurt so much. He had four deep, thick gashes, running from under his left arm down to his right hip. They were healing, just very slowly. It must have been Scott’s work. He was looking a little guilty.

After he was sitting up, Deaton picked up where Scott had left off.

“As you know, Druids can have some control over animals. It is possible for one of us to force a werewolf to shift. It’s very dangerous to do, though, because usually the werewolf in question will turn feral afterwards.”

He felt cold. “What did I do?”

Derek knew immediately that he had done something, because all three of them looked very uncomfortable, and wouldn’t meet his eye. Peter was the first to break again.

“It wasn’t you.”

He breathed out slowly. “Just tell me.”

Peter and Scott looked at each other. “You, uhm, just kinda started attacking everything. We didn’t want to hurt you, you know that, but things were getting scary.”

Derek closed his eyes. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, they’re all fine.” Scott’s heart did something weird. Not exactly like he was lying, but like he didn’t completely agree with what he’d said. He decided not to call him on it just yet.

“You’ve been out ever since. We got you here as fast as we could, and Dr. Deaton said you’d be fine when you woke up.”

There was something still making his brain feel a little fuzzy, but he was with it enough to connect a few things that felt off.

“Where’s Stiles?”

That was it. Scott glared at him briefly, eyes flashing red, before he looked back down. “Dude, don’t…”

Peter interrupted. “It wasn’t _you_ , Derek. And Stiles is fine.”

No. Things were clicking together around in his mind. Scott had said he was attacking everything, and Stiles had been right there next to him.

‘ _Mostly safe. Possibly a little dangerous_.’

“What did I do?”

Peter and Scott shared another look between them, and Scott shrugged. “You kinda grabbed him by the throat and threw him.”

He felt like he was going to be sick. Scott put his hand on his shoulder, pain from the tears on his stomach leaching away. “Hey. I’m not going to lie; I was pretty pissed off at you.”

Derek nodded. “But after the rest of us finally got you knocked out, and Stiles saw that I did that…I mean, he understood why I had to hurt you, but that didn’t stop him from whacking on the back of the head with a stick.”

That made him smile a little. Deaton spoke up again. “And Stiles still had enough power left over to heal himself a little bit.”

Derek had distant memories of that conversation in the clearing. “What happened with that?”

Peter answered this time. “The power he borrowed from the Nemeton burned out. He’s back to normal now. No more exploding people. Although, that would make things a lot more interesting around here.”

“What was that he said, though? About a sacrifice?”

“It was the power of love, dude.”

Peter rubbed at his head, muttering something about biting the wrong delinquent. Deaton ignored them. “What Stiles did was…unusual. The nature of the Nemeton doesn’t allow it to just give power to people. Stiles is an exception, but only up to a point. It couldn’t have just _given_ him what he needed to keep Solomon away.”

Deaton sounded a little sad, and Derek remembered that this had been his mentor.

“Of course, Stiles wasn’t going to sacrifice a life. So he found something else to sacrifice.”

He said it like it was supposed to be clear to Derek. Peter rolled his eyes. “How are we related? What happened yesterday, Derek? Anything memorable?”

In his defense, Derek was still a little muddled. A lot of memorable things happened yesterday. “Me?”

Deaton nodded. “His feelings for you. When the power he’d been loaned faded out, they came back.”

That left them all in an awkward kind of silence for a minute, before Derek thought of something else. “What happened to that orb thing?”

“Marin is with Lydia and they’re trying to figure out how to destroy it.”

Derek nodded. He was still feeling off, and was getting tired again. Scott helped him stand up. “Come on. Peter will drop you off at home.”

XxXx

Derek spent the next two days more or less huddled on his couch, healing and trying to not dwell on Stiles. He slept off and on, keeping weird hours, and if it wasn’t for his phone, he would have lost track of time entirely.

Then on the third day, he woke up at a decent hour, and felt awake and like he could move around some. By mid-morning, he was cleaning up the nest he’d made out of blankets, empty protein bar wrappers, and water bottles. Then, at noon, he was pacing around in nervous circles because he’d gotten a text message.

From Stiles.

‘ _Can I come over? Need to talk_ ’

Derek had shot off an answer before he’d even thought about it.

‘ _I’ll be here_ ’

So now he was pacing.

He felt Stiles coming from the stairway, down a few stories, and he tried to calm down and go slide open the door. He was a mature adult. That was what he tried to convince himself of, anyway.

Derek felt himself freeze when he actually saw him. Stiles had a dark bruise low on his throat, and he walked tenderly, like he was sore.

He held his hand up when Derek started to say something. “Don’t even think about it.”

He rolled his eyes. “As you can see, I’m fine. No need to apologize. Please.”

Stiles closed the door, and there they were, facing each other across Derek’s living room. He hadn’t felt this uncomfortable with him in months, and Derek was relieved that Stiles wasn’t blocking himself, and he could feel that he was nervous, too.

“You wanted to talk?” Derek winced internally, hating how formal and standoffish it came out. But Stiles just nodded.

“Yeah. I did. Do.”

He went quiet again. Derek fished around for something to say. “You left a lot of stuff here.”

It wasn’t meant to sound accusing, and he definitely didn’t mean it like Stiles needed to get all of his things out. Because he wanted his things around. It meant that Stiles was going to still be there.

But he smiled, like he understood what Derek meant. “Yeah, sorry. I know I’m a slob.”

He straightened up a little, and Derek could feel him concentrating on trying to be serious. “Uhm. I didn’t mean everything that I said at my house. You know that now, right?”

Derek nodded. “Deaton tried to explain things.”

“Okay. That’s good.” He fiddled with his hands, absently rubbing the coin on the bracelet that Derek was thankful he still had.

“Well. I kind of…still want that. Just for now. I really do need to sort some stuff out in my head. Recent events…things running around. I just can’t…”

Derek could feel how distressed Stiles was. It hurt, but Derek kind of understood. He really, really wished he didn’t, though.

“It’s okay.”

He stopped mid-rant. “It is?”

Derek shrugged. “I can feel how much this is affecting you. If it helps you for us to not be together, then we won’t.”

Stiles slumped down a little. “Ugh. This would be easier if you were a total dick to me.”

“I’m…Sorry about that?”

The tension coiled up in Stiles eased just a tiny bit. “I hope…I know this is beyond unfair to you, but I hope this isn’t a forever kind of thing. The not being together part. But, God, I don’t you being all, _stringed along_ , or whatever.”

Derek was able to walk closer to him, and managed to talk himself into touching Stiles wrist. “I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t want to go anywhere.”

He felt pain leaking over, and Stiles leaned forward, sighing quietly. “I think you’re kind of the awesomest person ever.”

Derek wished that he could make himself believe that that was just endorphins talking, but that was just something Stiles _would_ say.

“I am gonna ask one thing…If you don’t want this to be too painful on me, you might want to not say stuff like that.”

He pulled away and took a step back. “Sorry, dude. I won’t…Just tell me when to shut up.”

Derek nodded. “I will.”

It was still awkward, then Stiles waved his arms out some. “You want me to get my stuff?”

He shrugged. “Whenever.”

Derek was honestly trying to be like the ‘adult’ he was supposed to be, and he really did want to do what was right for Stiles, but it still hurt, like being stabbed. Repeatedly. At least this time he didn’t have the moon making him do stupid stuff and lash out. But he just kind of wanted to make another nest and hide away again.

Stiles was looking around, and moved to pick up a few things. A video game. An old book with a cracked spine. The box of coffee packets he’d brought because the kind Derek had bought was ‘the grossest shit ever’. And the pull-over hoodie that Derek had put on the back of a chair. It was his favorite; it was soft and faded t-shirt material, maroon and navy striped. He’d forgotten it that morning, before they left to see Gerard.

It may or may not have been part of the first nest he’d made.

“Um. Okay. Well, anything else, I’ll get…”

“Whenever,” Derek repeated, cutting him off.

Stiles nodded. He was sad, but it wasn’t overwhelming. Resigned. The same kind of sad that he felt when he talked about his mother.

“Okay, Derek. Call, I guess. Or text. I’ll see you soon…”

The ‘I hope’ went unsaid, and Stiles left.

Derek went upstairs to his bed, where he buried his way into the covers, breathing into the pillow that still smelled like lemon verbena, saffron, and old books.

XxxX

He didn’t see anyone else from the pack for three more days. Derek was determined to mope, and hadn’t changed clothes, or showered, or eaten a decent meal. Peter had popped his head in the door once, rolled his eyes and asked how old he was, then left.

The first person to actually visit was, surprisingly, Isaac. He scrunched his nose up when Derek opened the door. “Sorry.”

The apology was automatic, but Isaac shrugged. “You’re allowed some sulking time.”

He stepped in. “But I’m here to tell you that you’re coming to the bowling alley tonight. Five o’ clock.”

Derek frowned. “No I’m not.”

“It’s my birthday. Lydia and Kira remembered that I’ve never been bowling, and they wanted to throw me a party there. You’re family, so you have to come.”

The response left Derek, and he hated that he said it a second later. “I’m not family.”

Isaac’s face fell, and he could briefly feel his sadness. “You are family. You remind me of my older brother. The one who died? And you sort of _really_ saved my life. The last birthday party I had was before he was deployed, so…It’d mean a lot if you were there.”

Derek sighed. He’d been warned about this; that Isaac was completely prepared to guilt trip anyone into doing just about anything.

“I am _not_ bowling.”

The smile Isaac gave him was almost worth it.

xxXX

Derek ended up spending so long forcing himself to shower and get dressed, and even longer talking himself out of the loft, that he was half an hour late. Everyone else was already there and arguing over splitting into teams, and who was going to be with who. Derek was thankful to see that Peter hadn’t been invited along. He’d kind of guessed that he wouldn’t be, but he was glad that he wouldn’t have to put up with any snide comments.

Stiles was the only one sitting a little apart from the others, shaking his head at their bickering, but smiling. Derek was able to slip past and into a seat next to him. Stiles looked honestly surprised to see him.

“Hey. Isaac said he’d asked you to come, but I didn’t think you would.”

He shrugged. “’Asked’ isn’t exactly how I’d describe it.”

“It was the family thing, wasn’t it? That’s how he got me.”

Derek had to chuckle a little. “Pretty much.”

He took a second to really observe Stiles. He was holding himself like he was still hurting and he was sending out little waves of nerves and a general feeling of discomfort. His eyes had dark circles under them, and he could see the traces of bruising left on his neck. Derek looked around and slid a couple of inches closer, touching Stiles’ arm just below his elbow. He was wearing a shorter sleeved shirt, and didn’t want anyone around them to see the black lines running up from his hand.

Stiles sighed and sank back, relaxing, and his eyes fluttered shut. “Oh… _Thank_ you. You have no idea how awesome that feels.”

Derek kept taking the pain away for a few more seconds before scooting back to where he’d originally been. Scott and Kira were busy explaining the rules to Isaac; if anyone had noticed that he’d joined them they weren’t saying anything.

“You know you could ask one of the others to do that.”

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck absently. “It feels better when you do it.”

He looked guilty. “Sorry. I just mean…”

Derek waved him off. “No. It’s a born-verses-turned thing.”

Stiles maybe thought about arguing for a second, but shook his head like he was clearing it. He changed the subject. “Not a fan of bowling?”

He huffed. “I never have been. You?”

“Normally I wouldn’t mind. But I’m still kind of…well. Hurting. Besides, the others always cheat and use wolfy powers. And Lydia is a genius and could bowl in the Olympics, and Danny is just perfect at everything. I don’t think it’d be much fun knowing I’m gonna get my ass kicked.”

Derek watched for a couple of minutes. And it was just like he said; every one of them were scoring perfect games, including Danny.

“I see what you mean.”

Stiles stood up and pointed towards the food area. “You want anything?”

Derek shook his head, and kept watching the others. They really sometimes missed the idea of ‘laying low’. Others were starting to give them looks because of how well they were doing. Maybe they should try to act a little more human.

Stiles came back with a large box of popcorn and sat down. “Feel free to steal some if you want to.”

He waited a few minutes before giving up and getting a handful. “You aren’t sleeping.”

Derek wasn’t sure where that came from, but he had noticed it, and Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you, I am aware. And I’m fine.”

He was hit with a sense of Deja-vu; they were practically right back where they started. Apparently, Stiles was able to read into his silence. He had gotten pretty good at that. “Okay, maybe not ‘fine’, just yet. Alan says it’s normal. I pulled a piece of myself away and had it shoved back in. There’s gonna be side effects, dude. But, hey, no nightmares or hallucinations this time.”

Stiles smiled a little and bumped Derek’s leg with his knee. “I’d call that progress.”

Derek nodded, and tried to smile back. “Is there anything I can do?”

He stared at him for a long second, and Derek could see a hundred different answers going through his head. Derek was regretting asking. But then Stiles smiled again, wider and brighter.

“You do the…”

He waved his fingers in the air. “Magic pain thing before we leave, and we’re golden.”

xxXX

It was two weeks before Derek really saw Stiles again. School hadn’t started back yet, but early try-outs and practice for lacrosse had, and they were all busy. Predictably, Jackson had regained his spot as co-captain, and the one pack meeting they’d had more or less consisted of him and Scott arguing back and forth about offensive strategies. Stiles had, from the updates that Lydia and Malia were giving him unasked for, made the first line, and was just as busy as the rest of them.

Derek had had no intentions on going to the first game. The last high school match of any kind he’d been to had been one that he’d actively played in, and bad luck just seemed to be drawn to lacrosse field anyway, so why should he go?

But then Kira, Malia, and Lydia all showed up at his loft, Kira wearing one of Scott’s spare jerseys and Malia carrying home-made burgundy pompoms. Derek spent fifteen minutes coming up with excuses and valid reasons why he shouldn’t, couldn’t, and didn’t want to be there, but the girls ignored him, shoved him into a clean shirt and herded him out the door.

Thankfully, it was a good sized crowd that came to watch, it being the first game of the season. From where he was sitting, Derek could see the rest of the pack down near the sidelines, listening to instructions from the Coach. The only one missing was Peter, and he suspected that Lydia had banned him from being within a mile radius of the field.

Derek hadn’t been giving his surroundings much attention, too busy trying to think of a good plan to escape, so he didn’t notice someone sit on his other side, and wouldn’t probably have noticed for a while if Lydia hadn’t leaned forward past Malia to speak with him. “Hello, Sherriff!”

He froze then quickly looked, and surely enough, John and Mrs. McCall were there. “Hi, Lydia.”

John clapped him on the shoulder. “Derek. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Oh, God, what was he supposed to say to that? He looked like he wanted to laugh, and turned to Mrs. McCall. “Melissa, do you mind saving our seats?”

“No problem.”

John stood up. “Come on, son. Let’s go for a walk.”

The Sherriff was uncomfortably hard to read. Derek wasn’t sure what was going to happen. He didn’t smell murderous, he didn’t think he had any wolfs bane or mistletoe on him. But Derek was bad about picking out murderers sometimes. There were those woods just behind the field; he could make a break for it…

He must have been able to sense Derek’s nerves because John just smiled. “Relax, would you? I need to ask a question or two.”

They stopped closer to the parking lot, well out of view and earshot of the others. “I’ll try to answer.”

He put his hands in his pockets. “Is Stiles okay?”

Derek frowned. “Uhm…I don’t really know. I’m not…We aren’t spending a lot of time around each other.”

John nodded. “I had figured that out. He wouldn’t explain things to me, though.”

Oh, this was awkward. “Well. There was another bad Druid. Like that one…”

He held his hand up. “Like the one who stashed me under the tree, yeah.”

“And Stiles needed a way to get rid of him, so he had to sacrifice something.”

John rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding me? That what’s going on? Jesus, that kid…”

Derek shrugged. “He didn’t tell me until later. Stiles said he needed time to process…stuff. He wasn’t specific. But, uhm, that’s what happened. More or less.”

“Okay…That explains a lot. He’s just been, well, not himself. I was worried it might be something else. Maybe a possession thing.”

“No,” Derek said sharply. “We learned a lot from that, and I’d… _we’d_ know what to look for.”

John smiled, a little warily. “I understand. Thank you. Now, we should get back before the game starts. And don’t even think about going anywhere. If Lydia finds out you’re gone she’ll probably kill me.”

XxxX

The game started, and it was almost immediately obvious that there was something wrong. Scott, Jackson, and Isaac were slower than they should have been. They were still playing really well, or that’s what Derek thought; this was only the second or third lacrosse game he’d ever seen.

But after a few minutes he could tell that the three of them were starting to panic a little bit. Kira and Lydia were getting concerned, too, but Malia looked…kind of smug, maybe? That was when he realized that Stiles and Danny weren’t exactly worried either. Hell, they looked like they were having fun.

Derek tugged on Malia’s sleeve. “What did you guys do?”

She tried to pull off innocent for a few seconds, then rolled her eyes. “ _I_ didn’t do anything. It was Stiles’ idea, I wasn’t even in on it. Just found out by accident from Danny.”

“Okay, fine, what did _they_ do?”

“Wolfs bane. Just a couple of drops in each of their water bottles.”

Derek remembered what Stiles had said about games not being fun without any competition and laughed. Suddenly the match was that much better. He and Malia had fun watching the three guys getting more and more frustrated with their failing reflexes and cheering for Stiles and Danny. Well, Malia cheered.

The game turned out to not be a ‘game’ so much as a ‘slaughter’, and when the final buzzer went off most of the people from the stands poured out on to the field. It was an awesome start to the season. Or that was what Derek figured was going on. He tried to escape again but Malia latched on to his arm and dragged him down.

“Hey.”

Derek jumped and turned around; Stiles was right there. He’d just broken away from his dad and Mrs. McCall and was smiling. “What are you doing here?”

He shifted around. “I got kidnapped.”

That was so stupid, where did that even come from? But it made Stiles smile more. “Well I’m glad you did.”

The crowd was thick and they got jostled a little closer together. “I don’t think Scott is happy with me.”

Derek looked around; Jackson was flailing around at Danny, who looked less than apologetic. Scott and Isaac were standing behind him and glaring. “I think they’re all gonna be mad at you.”

Their chests were almost touching. “It was totally worth it, though.”

Derek was having problems focusing and thinking. Adrenaline was flooding off every person around them, and Stiles was right _there_. Luckily for Derek’s self-restraint, Danny was suddenly next to them, throwing an arm around Stiles’ shoulders.

“There’s a victory party at Mason’s house. You wanna come?”

Something in his tone made Derek growl low in his throat, and Stiles shot them both a look. “Dude, you know how much I love parties.”

He jostled him a little. “Please? You were the hero of the game, you have to be there.”

At that he walked off, and Stiles shrugged. “Hear that? I’m a _hero_.”

He turned to follow Danny, but Derek’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm before he could exactly talk himself out of doing it. “Hey. You’ve always been a hero.”

Stiles froze for a second, and then tried to smile again, but it just seemed half-hearted. “Derek. That’s…”

But he got pulled away, and Malia appeared at his shoulder again. “’You’ve always been a hero’? Seriously?”

She’d never hit Derek as his annoying little cousin, but suddenly she _was_. “Shut up, Malia.”

xxXX

Three hours later, and Derek was still pacing in his loft, occasionally tidying up something and muttering ‘you’ve always been a hero? How stupid was that?’ under his breath.

He heard someone coming up the stairs and stopped, feeling cold all over when he could sense it was Stiles. Oh, _God_ , he was here to judge him, wasn’t he? Judge and yell at him. He could run down the fire escape…

When had Derek turned into such a coward? He wasn’t running anywhere.

“I’m not running anywhere.”

Stiles looked understandably confused as he was sliding the door shut. “Okay? Well, that’s good. It’d be kinda weird hanging around without you here.”

Derek fidgeted. “Why aren’t you at the party?”

He flopped back onto his couch. “You mean the party I didn’t want to be at?”

Derek could sense that he was frustrated and he smelled like sweat, alcohol, and Danny. “Is everything okay?”

Stiles shrugged. “I guess.”

He grabbed the remote and turned the T.V on. “Is it okay if I hang out here?”

“You’re kind of making yourself at home already.”

Stiles looked back at him. “I can go, if it bothers you.”

Derek was half-tempted to tell him yes, but he looked tired and comfortable there. “No, stay.” He breathed in; the alcohol was stronger now that he was closer. “Are you drunk? Did you drive here?”

He glared at him. “ _No_. To both. Mason lives a couple of blocks from here, and I didn’t even drive to the game. I rode with Jackson. And someone sloshed beer on me. I only had half a cup to drink; I am nowhere near drunk, dude.”

Derek shrugged. “Sorry. You want me to drive you home?”

“I already told Dad I was staying with Scott, but I don’t want to go home smelling like this.”

He looked guilty. “You, uhm, you wouldn’t happen to have any of my clothes here?”

Awkward. “Maybe. I can check.”

Derek went upstairs and sat on the bed, listening to the channels being flipped through. He knew _exactly_ where the clothes were, but he didn’t want Stiles to know that. After about five minutes he called downstairs. “You want to take a shower?”

He cringed, trying hard not to think about what happened the last time Stiles was here…in his shower. There was a small satisfaction when he heard Stiles’ heart speed up, though. He wasn’t the only one, then.

“Would that be okay?”

Derek moved back downstairs. “You know where everything is. Go on.”

Stiles didn’t move off the couch. His heart had sped up, more than it should have, and he was radiating nerves all of a sudden. “Derek, I am _so_ sorry.”

“About what?”

He started bouncing his leg up and down. “No. Nothing, dude. Sorry. About being sorry, I mean. Sorry. I’m going to do the thing. The shower thing. Thanks.”

Stiles stood up and tried to move past him, but Derek grabbed his elbow. Stiles didn’t get so panicked over ‘nothing’ anymore. “What happened?”

He shook his head and pulled away, heart beating getting a little out of control. “Don’t freak out, okay? There is no reason to freak out. I’m freaking out, so no point in both of us freaking out. No reason whatever. It’s not even any of your business, so…And nothing happened.”

Derek just stared him down. Or tried to. “Okay, _fine_. Danny kissed me.”

He felt cold again. And maybe a little nauseous. “Danny, Danny?”

What did that even mean? But Stiles seemed to understand because he flailed his arms out. “Yes, Danny, Danny. He had a _lot_ more to drink than I did, and he cornered me at the party. I, uhm, I am really sorry.”

“You broke this off, Stiles. You’re free to kiss whoever you want.”

No. No he wasn’t. And Derek had every intention of killing Danny the next time he came over. Jackson could get over it. Stiles’ heart skipped around again, and he was looking down at the floor; anywhere but at Derek.

“I didn’t want…Any of it. You know that, right? And Danny is so not who I want to be kissing. I just need more time and I needed to apologize, because as soon as he did it, I felt like I was cheating on you. And it was _gross_ , and I’m _sorry_.”

Derek felt himself smile a little. “You don’t need to apologize. Go. Take a shower.”

He didn’t move, and Derek pushed at him. “Really. Go.”

Stiles sighed, and went upstairs, still not looking at him. Derek sank down on the couch went he heard the water turn on. He was still there when the water turned back off and Stiles came back, smelling like Derek’s soap. Why was he doing this to himself?

“I’m taking you back home.”

XxxX

The next Sunday, it was the last day of summer break. The ‘kids’ had all gone out to the Preserve with picnics and a backyard badminton set so they could enjoy one more school-free sunny afternoon. Around lunchtime, Peter cornered Derek in his loft and made him sit through the monthly summary of the finances. Derek was pretty sure Peter knew he didn’t care anything about the money, and only did it to annoy him.

That was a Peter sounding thing to do, wasn’t it?

Somewhere in between ‘fiscal’ and ‘high yielding blah blah blah’, Derek was half nodding off to sleep and almost jumped out of his chair when he heard the door start to open. “I didn’t hear anyone coming,” he hissed at Peter.

“No, I didn’t either,” Peter frowned at a paper. “Someone is clearly trying to be sneaky.” He was completely unconcerned. “It’s just Stiles.”

Derek looked over. It was Stiles coming into the loft, but he had done that thing where he totally shielded himself, which must have been why they hadn’t heard him. “What are you doing here?”

Stiles may have masked his scent, but Derek could tell by his body language that he was really pissed off about something. He held up a folded piece of printer paper. “What the hell is this?”

Peter didn’t bother looking. “Can’t tell from here. You might want to come over.”

He stomped up to the table and slammed the paper down. “What the _hell_ is this?”

Peter glanced. “It seems to be a medical bill. Have you forgotten how to read?”

Stiles was fuming now, and Derek could almost feel the build-up of power around him. He picked the paper up and read over it. It was the bill from where Stiles had had to stay at Eichen House, and it was paid in full. Derek wasn’t seeing a problem. Stiles pulled it out of his hands. “Did you know about this?”

Derek was really confused, and he hoped it showed on his face. “I don’t even know what’s going on.”

Stiles turned the glare back at Peter. “I called, and one of the nurses was nice enough to check the billing records. _Apparently_ , someone came by there last week and paid the whole thing off. Someone who wanted to stay anonymous.”

Peter shrugged. “That was very generous. Maybe you should be grateful and thank them.”

He waved the paper. “I don’t like feeling like I owe someone something.”

“ _If_ , and that’s a big ‘if’, I had paid this off for you, then you wouldn’t owe me anything.”

Stiles sat in the chair next to Derek. “But why?”

Peter tapped his pen against the table. “Hypothetically, I would have done it because you and your father shouldn’t have to go into debt because you got taken over by a demonic fox. Also because I like you and you’re my favorite nephew.”

Derek frowned at him, but Stiles beat him to saying anything. “I’m not your nephew.”

“You might as well be.” He was crossing numbers out. “Something isn’t right…”

Stiles glanced down. “You forgot to include the interest percentage.”

Peter smiled. “Thank you.”

He looked indignant for a minute. “Hey, no, don’t be distracting me. If you think…”

Peter sighed and leaned back. “You’re about to be predictable, Stiles. Let’s save each other the trouble; you were going to accuse me of doing this so that hopefully you’ll keep it in mind the next time I’m caught in any ‘wrong doing’. But don’t worry. I have every intention of behaving.”

Stiles’ eye twitched a little. “I don’t trust you.”

Peter smiled and went back to the papers. “I wouldn’t respect you if you did.”

He stood up, still holding on to the paid off bill. “What am I supposed to tell my dad?”

He shrugged. “Not my problem.”

Stiles looked at Derek, who shook his head. He had no idea either. Stiles stared at the table for a minute before turning and leaving. Derek waited until he though he heard Stiles drive away before he spoke to Peter.

“Why _did_ you do it? Was it a bribe?”

But Peter just smiled. “Call it an investment.”

It was a couple more hours before his uncle finally left, and Derek had a long quiet afternoon. The sun was going down and it was getting cooler when his phone chimed.

It was text from Stiles. ‘ _Creeper still there?_ ’

Derek snorted. ‘ _no_ ’

‘ _I’ll be there in ten_ ’

Derek frowned at his phone. What did he need to come over for?

He could feel Stiles coming up this time, and the air around him was almost vibrating with nerves and jitters. Even as he was coming in the door, Derek could smell the Adderall coming off of him.

“I need to talk to you.” His voice was shaky, like he’d jogged here.

“I figured. What’s wrong?”

Stiles did this weird gesture with his hands that Derek didn’t understand, but it kind of looked like ‘what isn’t wrong’.

“You aren’t gonna like it, so I’m going to get right to it. We need to make you an Alpha again.”

Was he insane? “Are you insane?”

Stiles huffed. “God, you and Scott are on the same damn wavelength. I am _not_ crazy. I am practical.”

Derek leaned to sit on the closest thing, which ended up being the counter in the kitchen. Stiles walked over so he was in the kitchen, too. “I’ve already talked with Scott and Alan, and they both agree, maybe with some reluctance, that this is a good idea.”

“Well, I’m not agreeing.”

“Dude, I can see that.”

They stared each other down for a minute. Derek ended up giving in first. “Stiles, last time…”

That was as far as he got. “This isn’t like last time. There’s still a hierarchy here. Scott will be the Alpha over you. I already told you that he’s going away next year, and what do you think’s gonna happen then?”

Derek really hadn’t thought much about it. “An Alpha leaving his territory opens it up to a whole big world of shit, and we already have enough of that without adding ‘turf-war’ on top.”

Stiles came closer, hesitated a second, then reached out and touched Derek’s knee with just the tips of his fingers. “You wanted to protect this town. Your family’s town. Well, this is the best way for you to do that.”

“Why me?” He was aware he sounded like a thirteen year old, and if the way Stiles bit down on the inside of his cheek was telling him anything, Stiles thought so, too.

“Peter’s the only other option, realistically speaking. Do you _really_ want him being an Alpha again?”

He saw the option to change the subject and leapt on it. “So is what happened earlier why you’re doing this?”

Stiles looked down. “Not really. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t trust him. But I don’t think he’ll be a threat in the immediate future. But this gives you a year, a whole year for everyone to get used to this.”

He tapped his fingers absently against Derek’s knee. “And if Peter _does_ get up to something, I’ll deal with it.”

Derek let his head fall back against the cabinet. “This is a bad idea.”

Stiles pulled his hand away. “It’s the _only_ idea.”

He looked sharply at him, then. “But that wasn’t a ‘no’, was it?”

Derek pushed himself off the counter, making Stiles take a couple of steps back. “If you think I can do it…”

Stiles’ hand reached out again and grabbed his arm. “I do…I really do.”

He gently pulled his arm away. “Then maybe it’ll be okay.”

Stiles was smiling at him, looking so annoying pleased with himself. “Alright, then. I’ll call Scott and tell him.”

He went out towards the open space and pulled his phone out. Derek used the time to try and distract himself. This really was a monumentally stupid idea, but Stiles had had some good points. He could hear them talking, Scott’s voice faded and tinny on the phone. It wasn’t a long call.

“Okay, he’s on his way.”

Stiles reached into the bag that Derek hadn’t noticed him carrying, and pulled out a long glass tube filled with scarlet red fluid. “This is…uhm, it’s something Welsh. I have no idea how to pronounce it, too many ‘d’s and ‘l’s. Anyway, here, drink it.”

Derek picked it up with what he thought was a healthy amount of trepidation. “What does it do?”

“It’s like an enzyme, catalyst thing. You drink it, then Scott’s going to bite you.”

He almost fumbled with it. “He has to bite me?”

Stiles looked apologetic. “Sorry? This is the only way I could find, and it’ll only work because Scott is a True Alpha. Otherwise, that’s just about as magical as spiked cherry Kool-Aid, and we’d have to hunt down another Alpha for you to kill. Which would you rather do?”

It tasted like shit, and nothing like Kool-Aid.

Stiles as still laughing at whatever face he’d made when Scott showed up, and Derek could tell he was nervous.

“Dude, are you sure this is gonna work?”

Stiles waved a tattered old book at Scott’s face. “I have documentation and stuff. This totally works. Like, ninety nine point nine percent of the time.”

He looked between the two of them. “ _Yes_ , it will work.”

Scott shifted his weight around. “Okay. Then where should I...do the thing?”

“’The thing’?”

Stiles and Derek had spoken at the same time and he rolled his eyes. “Give me a break, guys.”

Derek held his wrist out. Things were getting a little fuzzy on the edges, and he hoped it was that gross potion doing something. “Here. This’ll be easiest.”

He looked at Stiles, who was back to sending out almost overwhelming nervousness. “And, if I start fucking up, you guys will…”

This time Scott interrupted him. “Hey, it’ll work out okay. We’re all smarter than we were. I know things have sucked, but maybe it’s all looking up.”

Stiles patted Scott on the shoulder. “Past results do not reflect future outcomes.”

“Dude. You sound like my magic eight ball.”

“Shut up and do the thing.”

Derek froze up when Scott touched his arm. He shut his eyes tight, then there was a tearing pain, and things went dark for a few minutes.

When he opened his eyes again, Stiles and Scott were leaning over him, and Scott took a step back.

“Okay, yeah. It worked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be up, hopefully within the next week. It'll be the last, then an epilogue. 
> 
> Love you guys!

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE, please leave reviews and/or kudos. I need them to breathe!


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